


the love we found (at the bottom of the ocean)

by wooyoungthighs



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jung Wooyoung, Drinking, Falling In Love, First Time, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentioned Hwang Hyunjin, Mentioned Kang Yeosang, Mentioned Kim Hongjoong, Semi-Public Sex, Shapeshifting, Sirens, Top Choi San, it is not self-harm in the usual sense but could be triggering!, merfolk, none of the blood stuff is graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooyoungthighs/pseuds/wooyoungthighs
Summary: San hoped that Wooyoung would continue but the silence hung between them and San wasn’t sure what to say. “I don’t plan on… hurting you, Wooyoung,” he managed, as genuinely as he could. “Ever.”Wooyoung didn’t move, his gaze still focused on a spot on his sweater. “I don’t think that’s up to you to decide.”or, San is a siren - a mythical being with the ability to seduce whoever he wants. The problem is, he only wants Wooyoung.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, side seongsang - Relationship
Comments: 24
Kudos: 209





	the love we found (at the bottom of the ocean)

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic with supernatural elements!! AND my first woosan fic!! I hope you will enjoy this one, I worked hard on the worldbuilding and my head is now full of unused siren lore lol.
> 
> Again, warnings: there is blood, it's being consumed and at one point one character sacrifices their own blood by inflicting harm upon themselves - if you aren't comfortable with that idea, feel free to skip this fic. I tried my best to not include anything too graphic, I don't enjoy gore too much so everything is pretty mild (in my opinion!). 
> 
> Enjoy!

“San,” three knocks echoed through the bathroom door and the siren looked up from the book he was reading. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah, come in,” San said just loud enough for Seonghwa to hear. He set the book down next to the bathtub and propped himself to sit up better, the long fishtail swirling the water and knocking over a couple of shampoo bottles. “It’s unlocked.”

The door was opened hesitantly and in walked Seonghwa in tight black jeans, a silk shirt and a choker. San vaguely remembered it as the same outfit that he had left the apartment in yesterday night.

“Hey,” Seonghwa said, closing the door behind him and resting his back against it. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, hiding a smile as he stared into the ceiling. San waited patiently for what he had to say, watching his face closely from the bathtub while swinging his fishtail around. Having a large bathtub was a must for him and Seonghwa, it was the only place in Seoul where they were able to shift back into their siren forms without scaring any humans with their giant, over two meters long tails and gills that protruded on the sides of their bodies.

“So what about that party?” San finally caved to ask and Seonghwa immediately awarded him with a mischievous grin.

“I  _ love _ men,” he declared. San sighed, picking up the foam on the water surface and blowing lightly, watching as the bubbles descended on the scales of his dark blue tail.

“Yeah, humans are pretty cool,” he muttered, unsure about the direction of the conversation. He wasn’t used to lengthy conversations, it was only his second month on the ground and sirens, his own kind usually didn’t rely on  _ words _ to get their message across.

Seonghwa sighed, giving San a dirty look. “No,” he said exasperatedly. “I meant. I love  _ men. Human males.  _ You know,” he looked up into the ceiling again, the smile on his lips reappearing. “When they do that thing where they laugh so much their eyes crinkle into little crescents. Or when they giggle. San, when they giggle, I love that.”

“I’m pretty sure we do that too?”

Seonghwa didn’t seem to have heard him. “I hooked up with this one  _ gorgeous _ guy yesterday. He seemed shy at first but then dragged me into the bathroom and–”

_ “Seonghwa,” _ San whined, hands clutching the edges of the tub. “Spare me the details, please?”

Seonghwa giggled. “Okay, okay,” he said, closing his mouth and rolling his eyes, glancing around the room with a mischievous glint. Before San had the chance to stop him, he blurted out: “we did it twice, on the sink and then at his apartment.”

_ “Come on!” _ San shouted at him, plugging his ears with his fingers. Sirens were like that by nature, their libidos high and insatiable and San had felt it within himself as well, that tingling in his fingers whenever he would pass an attractive guy in the hallways of his university, the itching need to  _ act, _ to perhaps use his powers of persuasion to get what he desired the most. So he couldn’t be upset at Seonghwa for boasting about his experiences, having the need to share the details of his hookups as soon as possible; it made him a little bit curious as well. 

Seonghwa giggled again and San smiled too. He reached out with his hand to pick up a towel from a cupboard and slowly started to shift into his human form, starting with his torso. Taking a bath once every couple of days was necessary for his siren form to stay healthy – if he were to stay in the human form for too long his siren organs would start to deteriorate. He had heard plenty of horror stories about sirens that didn’t stretch out their gills for so long that when they eventually did shift back, they suffocated to death. It had made San determined to take care of both of his forms, human and siren.

With his tail now fully shifted into human legs and the bubbles only barely covering his crotch, San leaned forward to drain the tub. “Turn around, will you,” he said when Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind that San was now  _ actually _ naked.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and turned around, busying himself with rearranging towels on the rack. “You know, you should try it too. You’ve been on the ground for what, ten months?”

San stood up, patting his torso with the towel before wrapping it around his waist. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know,” Seonghwa gestured vaguely into the air. “You told me you wanted to live like a human. So Hongjoong got us an apartment in Seoul and helped us to get into university.”

“Yeah,” San prompted him to continue, still not entirely sure what was Seonghwa hinting at. It was definitely an act of immense kindness that Hongjoong, the leader of the Jeju lodge for merfolk and sirens especially, went through all the trouble to fulfil San’s wish to have a ‘normal human life’, using a big chunk of the fortune that sirens had accumulated over the generations to buy an apartment and pay tuition. Hongjoong insisted that it was only fair, arguing that most sirens just laze around on luxurious beaches and indulged in sexual escapades with each other and that if San wanted to get an actual degree, it would only be beneficial for their image as a species. 

“So, what I’m trying to say is,” Seonghwa elaborated, carefully choosing his words. “Maybe you should finally  _ live. _ We’re, you know. Made for it.”

San sighed. He wanted to pretend that he still didn’t know what Seonghwa meant, ask what was this thing that his kind was so good at. But he had been suppressing that part of him for way too long and maybe it was finally time for him to come out of his shell.

He opened the door and Seonghwa followed him into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out a freshly defrosted bottle of blood, offering Seonghwa one as well. Seonghwa took it gladly, San assumed that he was hungry after a night out. Feeding was yet another mild inconvenience of living in the human form, aside from a mostly carnivorous diet it was a must for them to ingest human blood in order to stay shifted – without human blood their ability to stay in the human form would slowly weaken until they would involuntarily shift back into the original form.

They sat down on the couch, gulping down their food before San leaned closer to Seonghwa. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You should take a shower, you smell like… what? Cherries?”

Seonghwa blushed and San was only more confused. The smell, combined with a hint of alcohol coming from his mouth, was way too artificial to come from actual cherries but Seonghwa was drenched in it. “Don’t change the topic! Why haven’t you  _ done _ it yet, anyway?”

San chuckled, Seonghwa claimed to be some kind of sex genius but couldn’t even say the word. He shrugged. “Well, reasons. Don’t really know how.”

Seonghwa stared at him with his cheeks puffed up, blood lingering in the corners of his mouth. He swallowed, eyes wide as if he had just seen a ghost. “Wait, you’re…? You’re a– you’re still a virgin?”

“When was I supposed to change that?” San whined at him. “Did you really think I slept with someone in the lodge?”

Seonghwa shrugged, suddenly at a loss for words when San confronted him in an almost angry tone. He gestured vaguely into the air. “I don’t know, like…? Hyunjin? Or, or… I don’t know, Hongjoong?”

San spluttered at the ridiculousness, almost soiling their couch with the blood in his spit. “Oh, right,  _ Hongjoong. _ As if. You were all over him.”

Seonghwa dropped his shoulders, giving San a look that he couldn’t decipher. “San, I’ll perfectly understand if you just don’t want to sleep with anyone, yeah? But I also think you should  _ live. _ Appreciate the things that make us  _ us.” _

San nodded. He had heard a lot of things from Hongjoong already and from other sirens at the lodge as well – the most important difference between his kind, shapeshifted into humans, and humankind was the fact that sirens weren’t affected by human emotions. Sirens were born as orphans, none of them knew their parents and familiar bonds weren’t something that they relied on; before everything they were merciless hunters, predators that had to fight from their infancy in order to survive just the first couple of years. There was no love in the dark blue abyss of the ocean. Sirens weren’t made for love and as far as San knew, love wasn’t an emotion a siren was capable of feeling.

Which was okay. It made them who they were.

“See, humans get so… obsessive over it. They fight over their partners, they make war just because someone slept with someone. They’ll go crazy if they can’t do the same person twice. It drives them mad. But for  _ us?” _ Seonghwa motioned at the two of them. “We can just do whatever. Enjoy life. Sleep with whoever you want.”

San sighed, playing with a loose strand of his towel, an empty bottle in hand while Seonghwa finished his drink in silence. He thought about it – he had definitely  _ tried out _ his human body, it hadn’t been too complicated for him to figure out what to do when he woke up with an erection, or to connect the dots to why exactly did he get hard in the first place – seeing someone attractive partially naked usually did the trick.

But he couldn’t deny that he craved more than just the palm of his hand for relief. He wanted the fun, the dirty and messy that he had heard so much about. 

“Well, I still don’t know how,” San concluded. Seonghwa scoffed, rapidly standing up from the couch.

“Just  _ google it,” _ he shouted from distance before the door to his room slammed shut.

  
  
  
  
  


He met Wooyoung at the very first party that Seonghwa had dragged him to. 

Seonghwa had eventually caved and indulged San in the secrets of getting into somebody’s pants (after having a couple of drinks first, of course). San did his own research too but there was only so much he could learn from porn and WikiHow articles on gay sex, so it was Seonghwa who tossed a box of condoms and a bottle of lube into their shopping cart when they went out for groceries that week, saying that those were the most reliable brands in his experience. He also lectured him on consent; he could still use his siren powers to make himself appear more attractive but unless he received enthusiastic content from the other party, he wouldn’t move things further. Sirens were maybe predators in the sea but they also had standards, very high standards that applied to every single one of them and San definitely didn’t want to end up being hunted down for appetizer by his own kind for doing something stupid as not respecting human’s wishes.

Seonghwa also helped him in figuring out his alcohol preferences – after all, San was fairly new to the human world and hadn’t quite build up a tolerance so it was for the best for him to be tipsy at most, only enough to supply him with boldness and to heighten his siren senses. San found liking in sweet, mixed drinks that made his head light and the thought of hooking up with someone way less daunting, and that was also what he chose to drink at the party – a tall cup of vodka and juice, barely a shot’s worth already making his skin tingle with excitement and the need for contact.

Wooyoung was a black-haired boy with skin-tight pants, a shirt that revealed most of his collarbones and a pair of dark eyes that sparkled with mirth and trouble.

But San didn’t even know his name at that point. The party was already in its full swing, music so loud that he felt it vibrating through his chest and the entire house hot and sweaty, bodies dancing and grinding against each other with vigour and San found himself simply overwhelmed with everything. Seonghwa had disappeared some time ago and the last place San had seen him was at the dancefloor, leaning over a smaller boy to whisper something into his ear and then tug him aside. San wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what that meant, yet he couldn’t help a pang of envy. He could have picked out virtually anyone at the party, fixed them with his siren gaze and have his way. There was only one problem.

No one had caught his eye.

Until Wooyoung. He danced like his rent was due and the first time San saw him he was wrapping his arms around another boy, basically glued to him but with gaze averted into the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Seonghwa had told him that morning. “A lot of humans sleep around too and there will be plenty of people like that at the party. They call it ‘no strings attached’.”

Right, San nodded to himself. Wooyoung was probably like that as well, dancing with every single person at the party and not worrying about anyone’s feelings. 

That being said, it didn’t take a second look for San to know that the black-haired boy was incredibly gorgeous. Maybe he wasn’t able to feel the same emotions that humans could but he knew when he wanted someone and he knew he wanted Wooyoung. 

The EDM party mix blared in his ears and someone accidentally bumped into him but his eyes were trained on the boy in front of him, mesmerized by the colorful lights that reflected on his face, the smile that tugged on his cheeks when the beat dropped, the laugh that pierced through the music–

Their eyes met and San almost flinched, almost looked away as a shiver ran down his spine. The smile on the boy’s face faltered, someone bumped into him again and it was really San’s fault for standing straight in the middle of the dancefloor but still neither of them moved, the music turned into static in San’s ears and his brain turned into mush.

But suddenly the boy disappeared from San’s view, a tall couple pushing their way through the crowd with broad shoulders and the moment was lost, the crowd moved, a new song coming on and attracting other students to the dancefloor, San positive that he would never see the dark-haired boy again.

Seonghwa had taught him how to operate most of his siren powers, how to shift his eyes in a way that they would entrance anyone who would look – it was the siren eyes themselves that held the power and the key was to shapeshift  _ only _ his eyes. 

He didn’t use his powers. He forgot.

“Fuck,” San muttered to himself. Maybe the alcohol was getting to him.

He felt a pair of hands slide down his sides. They were gentle, careful, but San was upset, no longer in the mood, he had one target and lost it so he sighed, prepared to turn around, say sorry and leave–

“Hey,” a voice said and then a pair of starry eyes met his and San’s breath hitched in his throat. “Wanna dance?”

“Yeah,” San heard himself say and the pair of hands moved to his shoulders.

San’s head was void of any thoughts, the pulse in his ears nearly drowning out the music and he barely collected himself enough to put his hands on the boy’s waist. Right, they were dancing.

“I’m Wooyoung,” the boy leaned to say to his ear and when he pulled away he smiled, watching San’s expression closely. San wondered for how long would Wooyoung play it up, how long it would take for him to avert his gaze and get lost in the feeling of a warm body against his – he was already getting more attention than he had expected, it wasn’t fair to the other guy really, had he even known his name?

But the longer San stared into Wooyoung’s eyes the less he found himself caring. This felt nice,  _ Wooyoung _ felt nice, his body hot under San’s palms as he swayed to the rhythm like it was second nature to him. “I’m San.”

Wooyoung didn’t hear him so he leaned closer again, letting San properly take in the sweet fragrance and the glitter on his eyelids as he repeated his name. 

“Are you having fun,  _ Sannie?” _

San chuckled at the nickname. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. “Now I am.”

The music was now almost sensual, lights red and purple and maybe San had only imagined the way Wooyoung took a deep breath. He wondered if he was blushing, but the lights were too dim to be sure. He slid his hands a little lower, fingers slipping into the belt loops of his jeans and watched the spark in Wooyoung’s eyes when he gripped his hips tighter, their faces now so close that he could see a little mole under his left eye and then another one on his bottom lip when he allowed his gaze to wander.

Wooyoung’s hands were initially on his chest, absently playing with the material of his shirt but as he got more comfortable he put his arms on San’s shoulders, connecting them behind his neck and leaving them there while dancing, looking at San the whole time and San wondered when he would look away, how long it would take him to get bored. Wooyoung smirked as if he knew.

Then something changed. It hung in the air between them, it pulsed in San’s veins, it made his head spin and his hands freeze momentarily. It tasted like vodka juice and the perfume sprayed on Wooyoung’s neck and it was addicting, San’s fingers tingled at the thought of withdrawal, he craved it, he needed it, he had to act before it would disappear–

“You’re really pretty,” he heard himself say and felt a blow of warm air on his lips when Wooyoung smiled. San had no idea what it was that suddenly made him confident, maybe it was the alcohol or the blood he had in the morning, his hands had the mind of their own and he felt Wooyoung’s body flush against his, it was warm and pliant and San needed more. 

Wooyoung’s eyes were still on him when he felt fingers carding through his hair and then his lips were moving and San realized he was talking to him. The music was too loud, San’s thoughts were too loud and he wanted to ask Wooyoung to repeat it, maybe talk into his ear and hope that his lips would brush against his skin in the process but suddenly Wooyoung was turning around and San’s heart sank. 

Thinking Wooyoung is leaving he quickly caught his wrist but then Wooyoung dropped to the ground, into a crouch and sticking out his ass before standing up and dragging his ass over San’s crotch, shamelessly putting on a show that San was sure there were eyes of the entire room on them. Wooyoung took his hand, the one that San used to stop him from leaving, and guided him to touch and San’s brain was fried, short-circuited, overheated by the sight in front of him so he had no choice but to comply and hold Wooyoung’s hips as if his life depended on it. San grinded back, letting Wooyoung’s body lean against his as he slowly moved his hands as well, he was slowly getting hard and needed the contact or the fire in his abdomen would consume him.

San decided that Wooyoung was the embodiment of lust; there was no other way to describe how he made him feel. He had never experienced anything similar, the closest thing he could think of was the thrill of a hunt but this was the kind of hunger that no amount of blood could solve. 

He wanted everything Wooyoung would give him.

Wooyoung turned to look at him over the shoulder and his heart raced. He looked at him like he knew – and maybe he did. There was no doubt that Wooyoung could feel him pressing against his ass. His pupils were blown wide, his mouth ajar and San couldn’t look away. Wooyoung’s lips were red and inviting, they were moving again and this time San heard them, they cursed, a frustrated scoff as San slid his hands lower to his thighs.

And then Wooyoung’s lips were on his and the room was spinning, his entire body tingled with the excitement that  _ this was happening _ so he let Wooyoung turn around completely and let his body press flush against his. Wooyoung’s mouth was warm on his and tasted like red wine, he was kissing him with passion and San’s brain was barely catching up with the sensation. This was his first-ever kiss and he tried his best to do well, letting Wooyoung take the lead in sliding his tongue into his mouth and roll their hips together in sync.

He let out a gasp and almost opened his eyes to check if Wooyoung had noticed, if he found it weird, but Wooyoung’s hands were around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer so he assumed he was doing well. He slid his palms up and down Wooyoung’s back and then dared to move further, one of his hands hiking up the shirt to touch his bare skin while the other moved to Wooyoung’s ass. He tried to be careful in case Wooyoung wasn’t comfortable with it, barely even touching the material of the back pocket of his jeans, but then Wooyoung bit his lip, sucking on it as he rolled his hips forward and San could feel his erection pressing against his own through the layers of clothing.

So he grabbed Wooyoung’s ass until he was gasping as well, kissing San as if he would disappear any second. He pulled away to take a breath and San met his gaze as he leaned their foreheads together. “I want you.”

Did he hear correctly?

“San,” Wooyoung said a little bit more confidently. San almost didn’t notice one of Wooyoung’s hands leaving his neck and moving downwards to rest on the buckle of San’s belt. The music was like static in his ears. “Make me feel good.”

San felt his stomach tighten into a knot. Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled and San knew he could never deny him of anything. “Tell me what you want.”

Wooyoung glanced around the room. “My apartment is just ‘round the corner,” he said and San could hear the slight change in tone, the uncertainty. He nodded and Wooyoung smiled, so much that it almost made San wonder if he had overheard, surely just the nod couldn’t have made him so happy.

But then he was being dragged through the crowd to the exit and his heart continued to race. He had succeeded and he hadn’t even used his powers yet. Wooyoung was giggling, San heard him as clearly as though he was standing right next to him, in fact, all of his senses seemed to be heightened.

They finally exited the house together and the fresh, cold air made San pull Wooyoung a little bit closer so they could share the little bit of warmth between their arms. There were few people standing in the front yard as well, smoking and talking in an atmosphere that was much more laid back than the loud and heated party inside. A group of four people looked their way as they shut the door, probably checking if they knew anyone.

“Hey! Wooyoung, what’s up!” One of the men walked up to them to greet them, putting his hand into the air to high-five Wooyoung but San was already seeing red. He barely registered what he was doing, taking a step forward and–

“Don’t you fucking touch him–” he spat out and pushed the man away until he stumbled backwards into a wall.

A silence fell upon them and San slowly came back to himself, realizing what he had done. The man – a boy, really – stared at him, speechless, fear burning in his eyes as the rest of him trembled. “S-sorry man, I-I didn’t, I just, just wanted to say hi,” he managed, daring to look at Wooyoung who stood behind San.

“San,” he heard Wooyoung say with a giggle, “let’s go.”

He finally turned around to look at him, letting the boy go. Wooyoung was amused, standing with his arms folded in front of his chest before letting them fall by his sides, grabbing San’s hand to drag him away from the scene.

“That was pretty hot,” Wooyoung said when they walked out of earshot. “That guy was an ass anyway.”

What was happening to him?

They didn’t waste time at Wooyoung’s apartment. San had barely taken off his shoes when Wooyoung started tugging him into his bedroom, pushing him to sit on the bed as he straddled his thighs, finally reconnecting their lips with the same kind of eagerness as he had on the dancefloor. San wondered how much Wooyoung was drunk, how much of the fervour was just the result of alcohol, but there was no clumsiness in the way Wooyoung rolled down his hips or nibbled on the skin on his neck.

Eventually, Wooyoung got tired of their position and they moved on the bed so San was now lying on his back with Wooyoung hovering above him, giving San no other choice but to continue making out. He felt a hand slide under his shirt, sending another wave of arousal into his crotch. 

Wooyoung smiled into the kiss. “Knew you’d be jacked,” he muttered against his lips before dipping down to continue trailing little, open-mouthed kisses on his neck. San was dizzy from everything that was happening and nervous that Wooyoung would be able to tell just how flustered he was, but then he was moving again, hiking up his shirt to admire his body.

The second Wooyoung’s lips touched the skin above his bellybutton San heard a moan and he belatedly realized that it was his own, his hips canting up on their own accord.

Wooyoung lifted his head to look at him and San felt his cheeks heat up immediately. Wooyoung had barely touched him and he was already falling apart. 

“Can I?”

San barely registered the question, too caught up in his own thoughts. Wooyoung’s hands were on the hem of his jeans, eager but waiting. “Yeah,” he nodded weakly.

“Fuck, okay,” he said and started opening his belt, so impatient he could barely manage. San admired just how attractive Wooyoung looked, illuminated by the street lights from outside the window. He was so focused and set on making San feel good it actually unsettled him, he was barely doing anything, too inexperienced to take the lead. He hoped Wooyoung didn’t notice or maybe just didn’t mind. “Are you okay?”

He stared at him, speechless. “Yeah.”

“You just…” Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, watching San closely. “Kinda look out of it.”

_ Fuck. _ “I’m fine, trust me,” he stammered out, not exactly believing his own words. “Just… never done this before.”

The moment he said it he immediately wanted to take the words back. Wooyoung looked at him as if he had just seen a ghost. “Like, with a guy?”

“No, like…”

“Oh.”

_ Yeah. Oh. _

“And, uh… fuck,” Wooyoung ran a hand through his hair, eyes glancing between San and the corners of his room. He bit his lip. “Are you sure about this?”

Was Wooyoung really going to reject him just because he was a virgin? San felt his heart race, he was  _ so _ close. “Yeah, why– why wouldn’t I be…?”

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung shrugged. “Just… thought you’d maybe want your first to be with somebody more… special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, like,” Wooyoung vaguely gestured into the air, not sure what he wanted to say himself. “Someone… else. I guess.”

“I don’t need anyone else,” San shook his head, still kind of confused. Was this what Seonghwa had meant when he talked about humans and attachment? “You’re attractive. I want you.”

Wooyoung was still biting his lip, looking at San as though he was trying to see through a lie. But there was none. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, fuck, let’s– do this.” He leaned forward to kiss San, the emotion perhaps a little bit too sincere given their situation but San enjoyed it anyway, he would enjoy any kiss Wooyoung would give him.

Before he could realize it Wooyoung was moving again, resuming with undoing the fly on San’s jeans to relieve the pressure he had been feeling since they started dancing. Soon he was gasping for air, Wooyoung was touching him and mouthing at his cock through his underwear and San was simply in heaven, he could barely hold his moans, clutching the sheets with so much force it hurt. It was an odd sensation when Wooyoung finally dragged his tongue up his shaft, wrapping his lips around his head and sucking lightly, his mouth was hot and wet around him and it sent sparks all over his body, making his head spin with arousal. Wooyoung had to hold his hips down so he wouldn’t thrust up into his mouth however tempting it was, so he resorted to sliding his hand into Wooyoung’s hair as he swallowed around him, taking in as much as he could.

He didn’t realize he had been pulling at his hair before Wooyoung released him from his mouth and looked up at him, lips glistening. He continued to stroke San with his right hand, using the left to undo the button on his jeans. “Why did you stop,” he breathed out and Wooyoung only chuckled.

“I wanna– can I…” he trailed off, looking away and biting at the inside of his cheek. “Can I ride you?”

“Yeah,” San breathed out and his cock twitched in Wooyoung’s hand, begging for more attention. “Yeah, ride me, baby.”

_ Baby!? Where did that come from? _ he briefly panicked but Wooyoung was already taking off his jeans, eyes fixed on San’s as he started to take off his shirt as well, unsure of what else to do. “Fuck, San,” Wooyoung said, helping him with the rest of the buttons and shamelessly dragging his fingers all over his abs. “The things you do to me.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d meant, he had barely done anything at that point, so he threw off the shirt and pulled Wooyoung closer by his waist, kissing him roughly. Their naked erections rubbed together and for the first time Wooyoung moaned as well,  _ whined _ into San’s mouth and San decided to draw out as much of those delicious noises from him as possible. He moved his hands to Wooyoung’s ass and squeezed it, his cock twitching at the mere thought of sliding into the tight heat.

Wooyoung clearly got the message, disconnecting their bodies to reach for something and soon there was a bottle of lube and a condom packet landing on the bedsheets. San felt a wave of nervousness, he had no confidence that he wouldn’t hurt Wooyoung, that he would make him feel good when this was the first time doing this, but suddenly Wooyoung was kissing him again and he nearly forgot about his doubts, focusing on how the skin of his thighs felt under his fingers.

It took him a moment to realize that Wooyoung had started stretching himself. He started with little gasps, occasionally rutting onto San for friction before he couldn’t even focus on kissing him anymore and San got impatient, his cock was twitching and throbbing and he desperately needed relief. He dared to move one of his hands to where Wooyoung was touching himself, trying to gain his attention by softly kneading his cheek.

“Can I…” he said absently and before he could even finish the sentence, Wooyoung was nodding, humming in approval.

“Mhm, touch me, please,” he whimpered so San didn’t hesitate, quickly coating his fingers with lube and moving them to Wooyoung’s entrance. It was already wet with lube and San slid in easily. “You can– more,” Wooyoung said so he used two of his fingers, carefully testing the stretch while watching Wooyoung squeeze his eyes and release the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. He held onto the confidence and continued to stretch him, adding a third finger as Wooyoung stroked him in sync, making it difficult for him to keep up.

Eventually, Wooyoung announced that he was stretched enough, though barely comprehensible over his moans. San removed his fingers and Wooyoung helped him with the condom, chuckling a little bit when San said that he wasn’t sure how to do it. 

“You’re unreal,” he muttered and San looked up at him, confused. 

“Unreal?”

Wooyoung smiled, glancing between San’s cock and his eyes. “Nothing,” he said, moving to line up his entrance with San. “It’s just you’re… this…  _ hot _ guy, but a virgin. I don’t get it.”

San was about to reply but then Wooyoung was sinking down onto his cock and anything that San could have possibly said turned into a long, drawn-out moan. He gripped Wooyoung’s hips as a reflex, the wet heat so impossibly tight around him that it took every bit of sanity left in him to not thrust upwards and satiate the burning pit in his stomach.

_ “Fuck,” _ Wooyoung moaned and it added oil to the fire,  _ “fuck, _ fuck me, fuck me San.” He had already bottomed out and the pleasure flooded San’s body, enveloped him whole and buzzed in his ears, his thighs were shaking and he couldn’t stop them. He opened his eyes to see Wooyoung throwing his head back, his cock hard against his stomach and it was the most gorgeous sight.

So he let himself take the lead, thrusting up into Wooyoung as much as he could manage and then Wooyoung started moving as well. San couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, the white-hot pleasure blinding him and all he could hear were Wooyoung’s moans, so pretty and sinful and San never wanted to stop, he would do this the whole day if he could.

“San,  _ fuck, _ look at me,” Wooyoung whimpered and San felt tingling in the tips of his fingers, strange sensation on all of the places that Wooyoung’s skin touched his, he felt  _ alive– “Fuck! _ Gonna come–”

And then he spilled over, coming all over himself and San’s stomach while he continued to ride him, not able to look away from his gaze and San couldn’t either, Wooyoung clenched around him and suddenly he was coming as well. He heard himself curse, gripping Wooyoung as if he would disappear, letting him collapse onto him as they both let the orgasm completely haze their minds. San closed his eyes, realizing what had happened.

“I’ve never come this fast,” Wooyoung breathed out eventually with a chuckle. “You sure this was your first time?”

San turned his head to look at Wooyoung when he pulled off, laying down next to him. He was staring at the ceiling, mouth open as he managed to restore his breathing to normal. His shirt was still on and it clung to his chest with sweat, but to San, he still looked gorgeous. He took off the soiled condom and tied a knot on it, throwing it into the trash can next to the bed. “Just never had the chance, I guess,” he fell back onto the pillow with a sigh.

Wooyoung propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over San with a puzzled look.

“What?”

“It’s just… your eyes.” 

“What about them,” San breathed out, heart racing.

“There’s something about them… could never get tired looking at them.”

  
  
  


San woke up the next morning to an empty bed. He remembered his conversation with Wooyoung, the boy he met last night, but nothing else after that – he was still very much naked, curled up under a blanket that he didn’t remember pulling over himself, the apartment drowned in silence and late morning sunlight.

He took the opportunity to look around the room. It seemed to be a regular student room, with a big desk covered in books and stray pieces of stationery and walls decorated with pictures of people that San didn’t know. It definitely had a personality to it – there was a clothing hanger with various kinds of sparkly, glossy and sheer fabrics that San could see Wooyoung wearing to all of the different student parties and catching everyone’s attention. There was also a pile of clothing on the chair next to the table and San quickly recognized it as his own clothing. 

So he got up, his body a little bit sore after everything that had happened, and reluctantly dressed, trying to ignore the come that he hadn’t cleaned and was now dried up on his stomach. The rest of the apartment was just as silent when he slipped out of the door and headed back home.

The second he closed the door of his apartment and started to take off his shoes Seonghwa was already yelling “Choi San!” from the living room. He sighed to himself. Experiencing his first hook up was one thing, having to disclose every single detail to Seonghwa until he stopped asking was something completely else.

“I can smell it from here!”

San finally arrived at the living room to see Seonghwa sprawled on the couch in sweatpants and a hoodie, turning his head to get a proper look at San who was still in his party clothes. He gave Seonghwa a questioning quirk of an eyebrow.

“The smell of I-just-lost-my-virginity,” Seonghwa teased him. San didn’t know how to react properly, he was still a little bit tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep again, but by the point he would have woken up Seonghwa would probably die of curiosity. “So… how was it?” He gave him a playful shove as he sat down onto the couch next to him.

San exhaled through his nose. He thought about how Wooyoung felt next to him on the dancefloor, how they made out, how Wooyoung looked when he was coming all over his stomach. He smiled absently, looking at his hands folded in his lap. “It was good,” he managed and Seonghwa instantly squealed in excitement, jokingly slapping his arm and San had to laugh too. Sex with Wooyoung had to be one of the better firsts. “He knew what he was doing, so it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“So did you top?”

San refused to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, his face was burning and it didn’t help that all he could think about were Wooyoung’s hands on him. “Yeah, we… he rode me, uh,” he chuckled at his own awkwardness. “I came almost instantly, though.”

Seonghwa cooed and San wanted for the ground to swallow him whole. “That’s fine, as long as he was alright?”

San thought about it – he had come fast, but Wooyoung had been even quicker, moving only a couple of times before looking into San’s eyes and orgasming instantly. “I think… I used my powers at the end. I hadn't used them at all last night, I was too nervous to do it, but then Wooyoung was on top of me and I looked at him and…”

“You looked at him with the siren gaze?”

San picked at the material of his jeans. “Yeah. I didn’t even do it on purpose. It just happened.”

Seonghwa hummed in thought but there was a smirk in his voice when he spoke up. “So a Wooyoung, huh?”

“Hey, shut up!” San whined, kicking Seonghwa lightly with his feet as he lied down, stretching his legs over Seonghwa’s lap. “He was… pretty. And had the cutest laugh.”

He didn’t realize he was smiling at the ceiling before Seonghwa started laughing again. Seonghwa had always told him how he would forget most of his hook-ups’ names by the time he got back home. It made him wonder whether Seonghwa was just bad at remembering names or if Wooyoung was that much memorable. He thought about how Wooyoung had looked at him the first time they caught a glimpse of each other, how he’d looked at him with want in his eyes before kissing him, when he’d amusedly watched him fight a random guy on the front porch just because he had greeted him.

“One thing I found strange…,” he spoke up and Seonghwa met his gaze. “We barely knew each other but the second someone else wanted to talk to him I… I kinda freaked out. I almost tackled the guy into the ground, he wanted to say hi to Wooyoung but I just… went after him. I didn’t even realize it at first.”

Seonghwa only smiled at him, nodding knowingly. “Yeah, hunter instinct. That’s only natural.”

“Hunter instinct?”

He hummed. “Well, imagine you’re back in the ocean, looking for food. You spot your prey and catch it. Would you want anyone else getting near it?”

San hesitantly shook his head no.

“It’s the same. You just didn’t want anyone stealing your food.”

San nodded, biting at his bottom lip. He thought about Wooyoung’s face, lit up with joy as he danced. He didn’t like the idea of calling him  _ food _ or  _ prey.  _

“Now go shower,” Seonghwa nudged his foot off his lap. “You smell like a beached whale.”

“Hey!” San pouted, putting his feet back on the ground. He put his hands into his pockets, reluctantly standing up from the couch. “I hope you choke on a dick one day.”

“Already did yesterday,” Seonghwa hummed, obviously proud of himself. San scoffed.

“You and your–” he started, already walking away when his fingers caught on something foreign in his pocket. He pulled out a slip of paper, stopping in his tracks to look at it.

It was a row of numbers. Under it, in black gel pen:  _ Jung Wooyoung. _

San looked at Seonghwa who stared at the piece of paper as though it was a curse. His eyes were wide in shock and without saying anything he stood up, grabbed the note and walked to the kitchen.

“It’s his phone–”

“I know what it is,” Seonghwa uttered, opening the trash can. San watched him as he crumpled the paper in his fist and let it fall in. “You don’t need it. You don’t want it.”

“What? But isn’t it–”

Seonghwa fixed him with a serious look. “This is exactly what makes  _ us _ different. You can hook up with anyone, but the moment you do it twice with one person, the feelings start growing. You don’t want a lovestruck human following you around like a dumb dog. It’s just a hindrance.”

San didn’t think Wooyoung would be a hindrance. He had no idea why it would be wrong to keep his number, even if it was just to not seem rude. He had let Seonghwa throw the number out, he was the older one and needless to say, it was not wise to mess with an upset Seonghwa. But still, as the day came to an end and Seonghwa finally went to sleep after binging an entire season of a show, San found himself digging through the trash until he found the piece of paper. He decided to keep the number in his phone, hidden under the initials of J.W.Y.

  
  
  
  


From that day Seonghwa didn’t hesitate to drag San to the very next party he heard about. This time it was in a club, one that offered a students discount that, according to Seonghwa’s words, they just could not miss. San wasn’t even in the mood to hook up, he was still sort of shaken up from the weekend before but Seonghwa argued that he could just dance and have fun. “Not everything is about hooking up, San, get your mind out of the gutter,” he told him as he shoved multiple condoms into his wallet. 

The moment they entered the club Seonghwa disappeared into the crowd, leaving San with nothing but a pat on his back as a good-luck gesture. 

Clubbing was very different from house parties – the music was way louder, the drinks were atrociously expensive and the mood was definitely something else. The focus here wasn’t just to talk with other students, make friends and chat, it was to mostly dance, drink and meet strangers that one wouldn’t talk to otherwise. San wasn’t sure how he felt about it but a part of him found the environment similar to what he knew from the ocean – here, everyone was on their own.

So with the music thrumming in his ears and two shots of vodka down San made his way into the crowd, trying to focus on the rhythm to calm his nerves. Dancing came naturally to him, he enjoyed it and liked to learn new moves in his free time and it was even more fun to dance with other people. The crowd was moving with him and it wasn’t just once that he had someone press against him, trying to initiate something and San usually indulged them, letting them put their hands on him until they got tired of it or the crowd separated them.

One of those people was a red-haired boy about as tall as him who barely gave him a second look before pressing his ass against his crotch, obviously set on what he wanted to achieve. The way he smirked at San should have unsettled him, should have told him that this boy was trouble, but as he learned with Wooyoung, San liked trouble and wasn’t scared of where it would lead him.

In the worst-case scenario, his siren form had sharp, pointy teeth that could slice through the skin like butter.

The red-haired boy wasn’t any less experienced than Wooyoung either. He let San put his hands on his hips, let him touch his body that was in some ways similar to Wooyoung’s, in some ways different and it made him want to discover more. The boy didn’t waste time, he tilted his head back to rest on San’s shoulder with one hand on the back of his neck and rubbed his ass against his crotch until he started to get hard. San dared to press his lips to his neck, tasting a hint of cologne and sweat with his tongue but still trying to avoid using his teeth – he didn’t trust himself to not hurt the boy even with his human mouth.

The song had barely ended when the boy turned around, fixing San’s eyes with his own, hungry gaze. He pulled San close so he could talk directly into his ear. “My name’s Minho,” he said, ending the sentence with a soft bite of the shell of his ear. San felt his stomach constrict as the wave of arousal hit him, making him tighten his hold on Minho’s hips. “Just thought you would want something to scream when I go down on you.”

San almost choked on his own spit. Minho just pulled away, briefly looking somewhere behind San’s shoulder before finding his wrist and dragging him away from the crowd. San’s heart was racing with excitement, Minho was tugging him along just like Wooyoung had and that meant there was something good waiting for him. Minho was definitely attractive too and San couldn’t believe that just a couple of hours ago he was dead set on not hooking up that night. 

They ended up in the men’s bathroom, definitely not the best spot for any sexual activity in San’s opinion but – he was willing to try anything. So he let Minho shove him into an empty stall, ignoring the stares of other drunk men in the room. Minho was giggling as he squeezed in with him, his hand immediately going to San’s jeans.

“You’re really hot and I wanted to do this the second I saw you,” he said almost like an explanation. San noticed that Minho didn’t kiss, he barely even let San touch him now when they were alone. He didn’t mind it, it was hot that Minho appeared to be so set on making him feel good. He wondered if Wooyoung was an exception when he kissed San like his life depended on it. “Can I suck you off?”

“Yeah, please,” San didn’t hesitate, the pressure in his pants was starting to get unbearable and Minho was just a zipper away from relieving it. 

“Oh,” Minho quirked an eyebrow at him, palming at his cock through his jeans. “You even ask nicely. I like that.”

The atmosphere between them was certainly different – while with Wooyoung he felt intimate and despite his inexperience still in control, Minho didn’t waste a second and immediately sank to his knees, having San pinned to the wall by his words alone. If he were to compare the two, this was the no-strings-attached fling that he would forget about the next day; to each other, they were nothing but a means of getting off. San didn’t mind it that way either and Minho definitely didn’t seem to be fazed by the fact that he wouldn’t be getting anything physical from San in exchange. It was his idea in the first place, anyway.

The moment Minho took his cock into his hand San gasped, immediately putting his hand in front of his mouth to not make too much noise. They were already obvious when they entered the stall together, San didn’t need to draw more attention to what was happening inside. So he let Minho lick the head, wrap his lips around him and sink down onto his length, the warmth of his mouth quickly overpowering his thoughts. He held in his moans and instead put his hand into Minho’s hair, the red locks a much better purchase for his fingers than the wall behind him.

Minho obviously liked it, picking up a pace and sending San dangerously quickly to the edge. He was skilled and San could tell although it was only his second-ever blow-job – he was careful to not hurt him with his teeth and he was taking San very deep without having to pull away to breathe. Still, while Minho made his thighs tingle and his cock ache for release, there were no sparks spreading through his body, no fire, no starry eyes watching him as he held onto the bedsheets so he wouldn’t come too soon.

With Minho, he wasn’t too concerned about the speed of his orgasm. Although the cold restroom wasn’t the biggest turn-off, it still wasn’t exactly a spot where he would like to spend more time than necessary and although he didn’t know about Minho, kneeling on the cold tiles couldn’t feel too good either.

He felt his abdomen tighten as Minho swirled his tongue around his cock before taking him deep into his throat, swallowing around him until San had to bite his hand, trying to warn Minho by pulling on his hair but Minho wouldn’t budge. Soon he was spilling over into Minho’s mouth, the pleasure washing over him like a tsunami. Minho swallowed everything, sucking around San’s cock until he had to pull him away when the oversensitivity started setting in. 

He could barely focus on Minho when he stood up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He helped him to tuck himself back in, the only evidence now his dishevelled hair and swollen lips.

“D’you want me to…” San breathed out, looking down at Minho’s crotch in what was supposed to be a vague proposition. He didn’t want to seem like he was taking a club bathroom blowjob for granted, but Minho only looked him up and down with a smirk.

“You’re hot, but it’s fine,” he said, his arm already moving to unlock the door. “My boyfriend is probably looking for me anyway,” he giggled and with that, he was gone.

San stared at the wall in front of him, completely speechless. Out of everything he had expected that night to happen this definitely wasn’t it. At some point during the week, he had taken his experience with Wooyoung and based his view of humans on it – they liked to play, same as his kind did, but they also needed a certain amount of trust and intimacy. Wooyoung had fun with him but he also kissed him to make sure they were on the same page, he let him top but kept some of that control to himself; it made sense, really. San was a complete stranger. 

After Minho, San would have to reconsider everything that he had learned so far. Accept that there were humans who weren’t all that considerate, that maybe Seonghwa was wrong and relationships weren’t black-and-white for humans either – that there were humans willing to jeopardize their relationship for the sake of having more fun.

Absently, he read the scribbles on the bathroom wall.  _ Yunho has a big dick, _ one of them read in thick sharpie. Right under it, in different handwriting,  _ he does! _

San chuckled, hanging his head with a sigh.  _ Humans. _

Eventually, he collected himself enough to leave the restroom, the loud music attacking his ears the second he walked into the hallway that led from the club entrance onto the main dancefloor. Multiple people squeezed past him, having just arrived at the club and heading straight to the bar.

“San!” A familiar voice yelled at him over the music and San immediately located the owner of the voice quickly running up to him. “Sannie! Hi!”

San felt his heart skip a beat, of course that the person he had been thinking about the entire week would show up right after San had let a stranger suck him off in a dingy nightclub bathroom.

But before San could answer Wooyoung stumbled over his own feet and nearly fell over. San reacted quickly and caught Wooyoung by his shoulders while Wooyoung laughed, loud and unabashed. 

“Hey, Wooyoung,” San said, looking at the other a little bit concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, is’ fine,” he chuckled. “I’m just lil’ bit tipsy,” he slurred but his eyes were lit up with that familiar joy that San remembered. He had to remind himself to remove his hands from Wooyoung’s shoulders, momentarily mesmerized by the article of clothing – a sheer black shirt with an animal print. 

“Have you been here for a long time?” Something in him turned sour at the thought that Wooyoung could have witnessed him dancing with the other people,  _ with Minho, _ or perhaps even seen him enter the bathroom together.

“Nope,” Wooyoung said with a hint of shyness, “but I pre-gamed with my roommate.”

San nodded, still a little bit taken back. Seonghwa didn’t really tell him what to do in a situation like this.

“Anyway, wanna dance?”

San figured there would be no harm in following Wooyoung for one additional night.

Dancing with Wooyoung was nice. It was familiar and San, insecure after his encounter with Minho, appreciated having someone next to him, preventing other people from freely touching him. Wooyoung wasn’t as intensive as last time, they danced next to each other as opposed to  _ on _ each other and San enjoyed watching Wooyoung’s expression, so full of happiness and glee. Yes, he was drunk,  _ really drunk _ and San had to stop him multiple times from tripping over his feet, but it was worth it. He was glad that Wooyoung was there with him.

After a particularly exhausting song he slumped against him, hugging San as he tried to regain some energy to stand on his own. San recognized the perfume, the scent of his shampoo, the way his body fit against his when he held him at the waist, the way Wooyoung gasped for breath – but he tried to not think about it too much. They were having a good time and if Wooyoung wanted to be friends, San would try his best to suppress his inappropriate thoughts.

“Having fun?” He asked him and felt Wooyoung nod against his shoulder. For some reason he also began to sway from one side to the other as if they were slow dancing.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung said and San heard the smile in his voice. Then, a whine. “Why didn’t you text me, Sannie?”

San’s stomach dropped and his hands froze on Wooyoung’s waist. The other pulled away a little bit, just enough for San to see him pouting. Yes, he had retrieved the phone number from the trash and saved it but since then he hadn’t found the words or the courage to use it. Partially, he had hoped that Wooyoung wouldn’t remember writing down his number and that he could save himself the embarrassment of having Seonghwa find out that he had kept it the whole time.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he said when Wooyoung hugged him again and he could speak directly into his ear. He could have said that he had lost the number, maybe deny having it at all, maybe the washing machine had destroyed it; but the thought of lying to Wooyoung made his throat close up.

Wooyoung chuckled. “You know, if you were any other guy I’d think you’re making excuses. But I’m gonna believe you.” San’s heart raced and Wooyoung pulled away again. “Give me your phone, I’ll text me myself.”

San laughed when Wooyoung started pulling him out of the crowd to the sitting area of the club so he could use his phone without risking having it knocked from his hand. There was a free spot on a white, faux-leather couch that had definitely seen better days and Wooyoung pushed him to take the spot before anyone else would sit there. Then he squeezed himself right next to him, throwing his legs over San’s to be more comfortable. San could feel how fired up he was from the dancing, his body burning up through the layers of clothing into San’s skin. He wondered how much of it was Wooyoung tempting San on purpose and how much was just him being himself, swinging his feet in the air like a little kid while San tried to  _ get his mind out of the gutter. _

“Gimme,” Wooyoung offered his palm so San would give him his phone. He barely unlocked it before Wooyoung was pulling it from his grasp, giggling at who knows what as he tried to find the messaging app. San could notice just how drunk he was and it didn’t help that since he had arrived he had roped San into buying more drinks so he wasn’t too sober either.

After watching Wooyoung struggle with typing in his number and sending a message to himself, San took his phone back and Wooyoung cuddled up into his side, resting his head on his shoulder.

“You’re comfy,” he muttered and San chuckled. He could feel Wooyoung’s steady breathing against his chest.

“My ears are buzzing,” San sighed, realizing that he no longer had the filter between his thoughts and his mouth. Wooyoung laughed. “Don’t fall asleep here, I’m not carrying you.”

“Am not,” Wooyoung whipped his head up to show how totally not tired he was. He was barely keeping his eyes open, looking up at San with a smile like he knew just how cute he was acting. 

He lifted his hand to San’s face, putting two fingers on his jawline as if San wasn’t already looking at him and San realized how close they were, he could probably count the individual specks of glitter on Wooyoung’s eyelids.

“Sannie,” he said and something moved in San’s chest. San hummed to signal he was listening, of course he was listening. “Do you wanna make out?”

His heart skipped a beat, he nodded, licked his lips because they were dry – and then Wooyoung was kissing him, holding his face with the hand on his jaw and the other on his chest and San hoped he wouldn’t feel the pounding there. His lips tingled from the alcohol and were probably chapped, and Wooyoung’s lips were so soft and warm he felt like he didn’t deserve them, he kissed him with the passion that he had lacked with Minho, and oh god he really didn’t deserve him – would Wooyoung kiss him if he knew that just a few hours ago there was someone else? 

Wooyoung licked into his mouth, pressing himself against San with urgency and neediness, although he was definitely more drunk this time and the kissing was much sloppier. San didn’t mind, he could barely think, especially when he put his hands on Wooyoung’s torso and could feel his skin over the sheer material. Wooyoung was crazy hot, there was no denying it and San couldn’t understand why he shouldn’t just go and sleep with him again. Maybe not when they were both so drunk they could barely stand, not in a random nightclub, but if the circumstances were different – San wasn’t sure he would be able to hold back.

By the time they stumbled out of the club into the street San had trouble hearing over the dull ringing in his ears and Wooyoung could barely walk straight, having to lean on San for support. They ordered a ride into Wooyoung’s apartment and San decided to go with him to make sure he got back home safe.

“Yeosang just texted me,” Wooyoung said with a hiccup, squinting at his phone. San had to chuckle, he could see just how hard it was for him to focus on the device in his hand. “My roommate I mean. He’s fucking again.”

San had to laugh. They were currently in the car on their way to Wooyoung’s apartment and San hoped that their driver wouldn’t judge them too much. “Like, at your place?”

“No, somewhere with the dude,” he pocketed his phone and leaned his head on the car window. 

“Good for him, I guess?” San offered, not quite sure what to say. Why was Wooyoung even telling him?

Wooyoung hummed. San wondered if he was falling asleep but then he spoke up again. “I’m younger but sometimes I worry about him,” he cleared his throat softly, his eyes closed as he curled up on his side against the door. “He seems happy but… I’m worried he’s getting too attached to this random guy he met once at a party.”

San couldn’t tear his eyes off Wooyoung and his heart pounded against his ribcage. 

“I think he cares about that guy much more than he lets on and… he doesn’t even know the guy. He doesn’t know anything about him, Sannie,” Wooyoung said and looked up, meeting his gaze instantly. And then, while still looking at him with glassy eyes: “I don’t want him to get hurt because he couldn’t keep hold of his heart.”

San didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Not when Wooyoung was looking at him like that, vulnerable and completely at his mercy. Maybe he trusted San too much, they looked the same age but San was twice as old, the lifespan of a siren much longer than of a human, along with their biological differences making San ultimately the one always in control. And Wooyoung was sitting with him in a car, in the middle of the night, looking at him and thinking San was just another inexperienced student who wanted to have a little bit of fun while getting his degree.

So he hoped that Wooyoung wouldn’t remember it in the morning and dragged him up into his apartment, helping him with his shoes while he fought with his jacket and then laying him down onto his bed, watching his eyes flutter shut as he tried to keep himself awake. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since their conversation in the car and he wondered if he was going to be sick, it was too much to take at once so he prised Wooyoung’s grabby hands from his body and filled a glass of water to set on his bedside table, promptly leaving the apartment with his head throbbing with questions.

He saw an extra pair of shoes in the hallway of his and Seonghwa’s apartment and remembered Minho, a distant memory at that point but still bugging his mind, why were things getting so complicated?

  
  


“Any luck yesterday?” Seonghwa asked him when he found him leaning against the kitchen counter with a half-empty bottle of blood in hand.

San shrugged, still replaying the events in his head. He didn’t feel like talking about it so he avoided Seonghwa’s gaze, drawing shapes with his thumb into the condensation on the plastic bottle.

“What does that mean?” Seonghwa opened the fridge to grab his own bottle before taking a big gulp. Whoever was staying over the night had already left the apartment, probably long before San even woke up and Seonghwa was  _ beaming, _ so it was probably good.

He chuckled, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a sip. It tasted a little bit off, a little bit too sour for San’s taste so he lifted it to inspect it on the light, frowning. “Does this taste funny to you?”

“Something’s bothering you.” Seonghwa stood right in front of him, his voice now more gentle and San hated how well he could tell his emotions. He capped the bottle and glanced up to meet his sympathetic gaze. 

“I’m just tired. I don’t even know what time I got back home.”

Seonghwa eyed him and waited if he would elaborate, but when San didn’t say anything he nodded: “Okay. You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Images of Wooyoung smiling drunkenly at him flashed his mind, reminding him of how his lips tasted, how well he fit against his body.

“But I will tell you about the boy I met yesterday,” Seonghwa said with a teasing tone, leaning on the counter next to him and San scoffed, finally a smile forming on his lips. “He had like, this gorgeous–”

“Alright!” San screamed, jabbing fingers into his ears and laughing. “You won!”

Seonghwa smiled victoriously, looking at San with a lift of his eyebrows, prompting him to talk.

“Okay, okay,” San said, preparing what he was going to say. In the daylight, the little escapade he had with Minho turned pretty harmless, it seemed almost ridiculous at this point. Just the fact that he had been so horny he  _ begged _ for his dick to be sucked in a dirty, cold bathroom – he was, at worst, just really embarrassed. “There was one guy who sucked me off in a toilet stall.”

“San!” Seonghwa almost shrieked, scandalized but also excited. “I can’t believe you didn’t want to tell me!”

San had to laugh too, maybe he was taking things too seriously. “Well, there’s the second part,” he began carefully, not sure how Seonghwa would react. He received a look so he would continue. “I met Wooyoung there, too. The boy from the last party. And we made out?”

Seonghwa sighed, coming down from his high. He gave him a dirty look. “You can’t be serious.”

San sucked in a sharp breath, shrugging. 

“You’re just leading him on,” Seonghwa muttered and for a while San wasn’t sure if it was meant for him. Then, a little clearer: “I told you, rule number one. No seconds.”

San could tell him he also took Wooyoung home, that if he was a little bit more drunk he would have slept with him too, that he was thinking about whether he should text him or not. “Yeah, that was stupid. We were just drunk.”

  
  


Seonghwa took the next few days off, deciding to visit the Jeju lodge to recharge and catch up with his friends there. He told San that if he wanted he could come along too, that Hongjoong and others would definitely welcome him as one of the few sirens who decided to pursue a human career – that they were dying to know how all of that worked and if university was really the hot spot to meet and couple humans. 

“Hongjoong texted me that there is a lot of new members,” he explained while San fiddled with the water temperature setting on their bathtub. “Maybe you’d want to meet them too?”

San shrugged, reaching for a jar with his favorite bath salt. He didn’t really care for the sirens at the lodge, he had spent only a couple of days there and although he considered Hongjoong and Hyunjin his friends, he never truly felt like Jeju was where he belonged. Maybe it was because he had still been a virgin when he had visited the first time and therefore hadn’t taken part in any of the ‘fun stuff’ – as Seonghwa had called it. He hummed as in thought. “Not really in the mood for a gang bang right now.”

“That’s not–” Seonghwa complained with a pout and San had to chuckle at how cute he was trying to be. “You know that’s not the only thing there. We are also going to hunt, when was the last time you went swimming?”

San attempted to point at the slowly filling bathtub but Seonghwa only swatted his hand away.

“Come on,” Seonghwa whined. “Aren’t you suffocating in that little thing? Do you never feel like you need a break from humans? Their… act and… emotions,” he said bitterly, enunciating the last words with so much precision that San wondered if he was talking about something specific.

He took off his shirt and shifted the top part of his body into his siren form. Dark blue gills grew out on both sides of his body and the sides of his neck and he brought a hand to scratch the one on the right. The shift always itched a little bit and the biggest relief was salt water – his siren eyes could see better under the surface as well so when he looked back at Seonghwa he had to squint a little bit. 

It was true that being amongst the likes of his was comforting in a sense that humans probably found their families comforting. And swimming in the endless depths of the ocean, hunting down little defenceless prey at speeds that no human would ever be able to achieve on their own, biting into raw flesh and letting the blood taint the waters… San did miss it in a way. 

But now he had his life in Seoul, far from the ocean, surrounded by humans, and whatever Seonghwa was going through he didn’t experience. He didn’t ache to return to Jeju. After all, there was no Wooyoung on Jeju.

“I’ll be fine here,” he assured Seonghwa who only scoffed in disappointment.

“I’m gonna get you  _ the ugliest _ postcard.”

  
  


San was lazing around on the couch on the third evening after Seonghwa’s departure, scrolling mindlessly through social media while watching a documentary. The apartment was definitely quieter like this and San was realizing how much he missed the company of other people, but he would never admit that to Seonghwa who was already spamming him with photos of the beach. He was checking yet another picture from him, this time a selfie with Hongjoong and someone who San didn’t know by name, when he noticed an additional contact in his inbox – J.W.Y.

He opened it to see only two messages, but both of them had been written by Wooyoung five days ago when he was attempting to message himself from San’s phone.

_ [5 days ago] [San]: hi there sexcy:) _

_ [5 days ago] [J.W.Y]: i cant believve u texted me frst _

San had to laugh, since that night he hadn’t properly looked at the little conversation that Wooyoung had with himself when he was drunk off his face.

What he hadn’t expected was for his phone to buzz in his hand as a new message arrived. It was from Wooyoung.

_ [J.W.Y]: i completely forgot that i texted you lol _

San’s heart raced as he typed out a response.

_ [San]: If you were any other guy I would think that’s an excuse _

_ [J.W.Y]: wow are you mocking me _

_ [J.W.Y]: here i was texting you first _

_ [J.W.Y]: again _

San watched the messages popping up on the screen and could practically hear Wooyoung’s whiny, pouty voice.

_ [San]: You are very cute Wooyoung _

_ [J.W.Y]: sdhfkk you can’t just say that _

_ [J.W.Y]: anyway i wanted to ask _

_ [J.W.Y]: wyd? _

San squinted at the screen before quickly looking up the meaning of that abbreviation. 

_ [San]: Nothing much, roommate is away so I’m hogging the couch, you? _

Wooyoung’s reply was almost instant.

_ [J.W.Y]: oh ?? _

_ [J.W.Y]: well my roomie has to study so i have to be quiet :( _

Then, after an eternity:

_ [J.W.Y]: you know how i like to be loud _

San felt dizzy as he typed out a reply, deleting it and retyping again multiple times before finally taking a deep breath and sending it:

_ [San]: Do you want to come over? _

Wooyoung arrived at his apartment when it was already dark outside. San managed to get a couple of days of cleaning done within those few hours before his arrival, throwing out the trash out of his room, closing the door to Seonghwa’s room and wiping the kitchen clean of any bloodstains. He decided to put the blood bottles back into the freezer just so Wooyoung would be less likely to find them were he to open the fridge.

He spent probably way too long on picking out what to wear – he didn’t want to scare Wooyoung by wearing something  _ too nice _ but he also didn’t want him to see the clothes he usually wore around the house when he wasn’t planning on going out. He ended up wearing a comfortable cardigan that showed his collarbones and a pair of jeans that weren't too tight but still accentuated his waist. 

“You have your hair down,” was the first thing Wooyoung said when he showed up on his doorstep. “It looks good,” he breathed out, his eyes flitting between San’s eyes and his hair and his outfit.

“Thank you,” San managed and let Wooyoung in. He was wearing a red hoodie that was a little bit too big on him so his fingers barely peeked out from the sleeves and it instantly sparked something in San, something that made him want to hug Wooyoung right there and then, kiss him and hold him. Instead, he let him take off his shoes and follow him into the apartment.

“I brought food,” Wooyoung showed the bag in his hand and San could recognize four different kinds of instant noodles, soda and some sweets as well. “I wasn’t sure which flavor you liked so I got a couple to choose from,” he started unpacking the bag on the coffee table in the living room and San had to smile, he couldn’t stop it, somehow that was his natural reaction to seeing Wooyoung excited about something. “So, which one do you want?”

San looked at the options. He didn’t eat a lot of instant food, Seonghwa insisted that with their old money they had no reason to be frugal so they ordered takeout most of the time. But he still liked instant food and whatever was the addictive ingredient they put into it, so he pointed at one of the packets and Wooyoung nodded in approval.

“Seafood, nice,” he said and picked a kimchi flavor for himself. “I love seafood.”

They ended up watching a documentary about dolphins while they ate but San barely paid any attention (even though it was him who suggested it). He invited Wooyoung already considering that it was a booty call – as Seonghwa sometimes referred to his appointments – but Wooyoung didn’t seem to be there looking for an easy fuck. He was laughing at weird looking fish on the screen and talking with his mouth full; San couldn’t find it in him to complain though. He enjoyed this Wooyoung too, not just his drunk and horny, he wanted to hear him laugh more and yes, maybe make out later but not before he made sure he was content and happy.

And Wooyoung did eventually climb into his lap, straddling San on the couch and pushing his tongue into his mouth, needy for physical contact but also taking his time as to savour every moment, every roll of his hips and gasp that San let out, almost as if he wanted to make up for being so hasty before. So San indulged him, putting his hands on Wooyoung’s body under the hoodie, determined to make him feel good like he deserved. He felt himself slipping into his siren self, hungry for his  _ prey, _ but Wooyoung was anything but – he was beautiful, moaning on his lap when San palmed at the bulge in his jeans and San wanted to  _ worship him. _

_ “F-fuck, _ fuck me San,” he whimpered when San flipped them around with Wooyoung under him, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “I want you so bad, please.”

San helped him undress, first taking off his hoodie and shirt when he realized that he had never really seen Wooyoung fully naked – he had kept his shirt on the first time they hooked up and San had no idea why because he looked  _ delectable, _ especially now when he was laying on San’s couch with his hair splayed out on the pillow, fully under San’s control. He made sure to press open-mouthed kisses all over his torso, making Wooyoung squirm whenever he found a sensitive spot and trying to commit his body to memory.

“Bite me,” Wooyoung breathed out and San had to look up at him, he wasn’t sure he heard properly. “Please, bite me, on my neck or anywhere,” he said with his eyes closed, probably embarrassed. San was hesitant, if he was honest he didn’t feel like it was a good idea, his siren teeth were so sharp that even a little bite would pierce through skin. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said and Wooyoung only shook his head.

“No, you won’t, I swear, I– I like it,” he assured him, meeting his gaze.

_ You don’t know what I mean, _ he wanted to say but Wooyoung looked so desperate that San couldn’t bring himself to reject him. He moved so he would have better access to his neck and then kissed a spot that seemed to be appropriate before grazing his teeth gently over it and the response was instantaneous, goosebumps rising right under San’s hands. So he dared some more, actually biting the skin and sucking on it and Wooyoung moaned, canting his hips up to meet San’s, craving every bit of friction he could get. San slid his hand down to Wooyoung’s crotch, providing him with something to grind into and continued to bite him all over, quickly making him into a whiny mess.

He felt hot all over, his mind hazed with lust and it was getting unbearable. He sat up on the backs of his heels to help Wooyoung out of his jeans and realized that he was still fully dressed when Wooyoung started to practically tear the clothing off him. Seeing Wooyoung in such vulnerable state made San pull him into a kiss, one hand behind his head to hold him as he laid them both down again, gently yet with a sense of urgency that made him delirious.

This time Wooyoung let San stretch him by himself and San took his time, making sure he wouldn’t hurt him and ending up on four fingers thrusting in and out of his hole more than it was probably necessary for prep but he enjoyed it way too much. Wooyoung was writhing under him, trying to grab onto anything he could, scratching San’s back and moaning so loudly that San wondered if the neighbours would hear, especially when he combined the movement of his fingers with biting his neck.

“San –  _ f-fuck! _ – I want you, so bad, please,” Wooyoung was pleading now and San’s name sounded so good from his lips so he kissed him again, licking into his mouth as his hand searched for the condom that Wooyoung had dropped onto the couch somewhere. Wooyoung had to help him with it again and his fingers were trembling with anticipation that San couldn’t help but to press a kiss on the tip of his nose.

He fucked into Wooyoung slowly, deliberately to make it last. He didn’t want to use his powers to make him come faster, he wanted to draw as many obscene moans out of Wooyoung’s mouth as possible, he wanted the neighbours to complain about the noise, he wanted to create even more marks on his body he wouldn’t be able to hide.

When Wooyoung came, his legs were quivering around San’s waist and all he could do was call out his name until San came too, spilling into the condom with a groan. He collapsed onto him, not really caring that he would get sticky from Wooyoung’s come on his stomach and for a while they were just lying there, trying to catch their breaths. Wooyoung was nuzzling his head to San’s so San kissed him wherever he could from his position.

“You okay?” he said, rubbing small circles into Wooyoung’s side.

“Yeah, fuck,” Wooyoung managed breathlessly. “That was probably the best sex I’ve had in a while. I saw stars.”

San chuckled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it. I think you’ll have to carry me to the shower. I won’t be able to use my legs for a while.”

Wooyoung probably didn’t expect San to actually carry him, bridal style to the bathroom, and to stand him into the shower to clean up with him. San enjoyed listening to Wooyoung talk about random things as they went about their evening routine, especially when he was already sleepy and he spoke in a soft voice that San had only heard once in the car when he was taking Wooyoung home from the club.

They agreed that Wooyoung would sleep over and San didn’t hesitate leading him into his room so they would share his bed. He also let him borrow a t-shirt to sleep in, which he realized might have been a mistake because now he had a hard time tearing his gaze off his thighs, barely covered by the oversized shirt that went just below his butt. He watched him from the bed, sitting against the headboard as Wooyoung walked around the room and looked at his bookshelf and the handful of pictures he had hung up. The shirt rode up a little bit each time he lifted his hand to run his finger over a book spine, revealing the curve of his ass and San wondered if he did it on purpose, trying for another round. 

“Have you read this?” Wooyoung pulled out one of the books,  _ The Song of Achilles. _ Most of his books were gifts from Hongjoong and others of his kind at the lodge, given to him with a ‘these are way better for education’.

He shook his head. “Haven’t gotten to it yet.”

Wooyoung smiled, looking at the book with mischief before turning back to the shelf and putting the book back at its place. “It’s a pretty good read. But I won’t spoil anything.”

“I got it from a friend before I moved to Seoul,” San said and momentarily hesitated, it was meant as an explanation, the reason to why he hadn’t read the book and he realized too late that he hadn’t meant to talk about himself. 

Wooyoung faced him again, meeting San’s gaze briefly before turning back around. “Where are you from?”

San thought about it, it wouldn’t really make sense if he said,  _ the ocean. _ “Jeju.”

“You’re from Jeju?” Wooyoung looked at him with surprise. San fidgeted with the long sleeves of his sleep shirt, avoiding his gaze. 

He hummed as an answer.

Wooyoung picked out another book,  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray, _ flipping through the pages and keeping it open somewhere in the middle. San thought he was reading, maybe he had a favorite part, but then he realized that Wooyoung wasn’t looking at the book. He was zoned out, staring at a spot on the wall. When he spoke up again, it was much quieter, more genuine to be just a random question to fill the silence. “Do you see your parents often?”

San’s stomach dropped. From all the questions that Wooyoung could ask, this one he’d expected the least.

“I mean, if they live on Jeju. It’s far,” Wooyoung reasoned, putting Dorian Gray back on the shelf and instead picking up a postcard that San had propped up against the book spines.

His mouth was completely dry, he had no idea how to reply. He couldn’t really tell Wooyoung that he was born under the ocean, at a coral reef, that whoever his biological parents he had no way of finding out as he wasn’t born from a mother’s belly.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Wooyoung tore him out of his thoughts, setting the postcard back. “If you don’t want to. Sorry I–”

“No, it’s–” San interrupted him, he didn’t want him to think that  _ he _ did something wrong. It was San who was pretending to be something he wasn’t. “I don’t – know. My parents. I’ve never… never met them, I don’t think.”

It wasn’t a lie, it was actually fully true, but it still didn’t feel right. Wooyoung immediately turned around, meeting San’s eyes with shock. “I– I’m sorry,” he said, carefully and sincerely. “I didn’t want to pry–”

“It’s okay, Wooyoung,” San chuckled to lighten the atmosphere. He watched Wooyoung twist his fingers together, something like a mix of fear and nervousness in his eyes. He slowly approached the bed, deciding that he had snooped enough. He sat down next to San like he was a hungry stray cat, approaching as quietly as possible so San wouldn’t shoo him away. San would never do that, there was no tripwire, no landmine. “I said it’s okay, really,” he tried to assure him with a laugh.

“Sorry, I feel stupid asking about it now,” Wooyoung rambled, refusing to meet his gaze. So San did the only thing he could think of and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Wooyoung almost flinched, looking at San with a puzzled look so he found his hand on the blanket and put his palm over it, squeezing it lightly.

“No need to, yeah? Let’s go to sleep,” San said and turned off the lamp on his bedside table.

Wooyoung shuffled around, slipping under the covers, but instead of lying on his side he laid on his back, looking into the ceiling. San watched the sparkles in his eyes and wondered if it would be inappropriate if he closed the gap between them.

“What about your parents?” He asked, trying to dissolve the tension, but Wooyoung only chuckled.

“I really opened a can of worms with that one, haven’t I, huh.”

“I just like hearing you talk, that’s all.”

Wooyoung looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. Then back at the ceiling. San thought he had dismissed the question when he didn’t answer for a couple of minutes, but then he spoke up again:

“They’re a lot of pressure, my parents. They want me to do well but… it’s a lot. I don’t wanna do what they want me to do. I don’t wanna be an office rat sucking up to some boss who can’t even fuck his wife right,” he said with a humorless chuckle. “The last time my mum checked my GPA she got so upset she cut me off and tried to make me come back home,” he scoffed, “so I got a part time job just so I wouldn’t have to go back to the same people that paid a vicar to ‘pray the gay away’ after I came out.”

Wooyoung was now laughing softly and San didn’t know how to react. “Pray the gay away?” He repeated, trying to process everything.

“Yeah, that didn’t really work out, did it,” Wooyoung said with a ‘now look at me’ gesture and continued to laugh. “Just made me realize I have a fetish for churches.”

_ “Churches?!” _

Wooyoung nodded confidently and met San’s gaze as he giggled. “The vicar made me kneel in the front and while he walked around with an incense all I could think about was how the altar was the perfect height for me to get railed on top.”

San gaped at him before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Well, I’ll remember that for later reference.”

Wooyoung rolled over so he hovered above San, still chuckling. “Should I text my mum that I finally met someone who’d bring me back to the church?”

San nodded with a smirk. “Of course. First I’ll meet your parents and then I’ll fuck you in a confessional booth.”

Wooyoung bursted out laughing, burying his face into San’s shoulder. They were joking around and it was harmless, San was glad that Wooyoung wasn’t sulking anymore, but it also made him mull over his words and as they slowly drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in the fantasy of becoming someone who Wooyoung would consider introducing to his family.

Waking up next to Wooyoung felt good, it felt  _ right. _ Contrary to their first time, the bed was still warm when San came to, realizing that there was a sleeping body lying behind him. Wooyoung was hugging him with an arm over his waist and face buried in his shoulder, their legs tangled and he felt so comfortable, so safe like never before. He snuggled further into the warmth and felt Wooyoung’s hand move to hold him closer. As he slowly became more and more aware of his surroundings he felt something pressing against his ass. It made sense that Wooyoung would have morning wood but San didn’t fully register it at first, sleepily seeking more friction.

Wooyoung woke up as well and pushed his hips forward, exhaling out of his mouth and the sound probably shouldn’t have sounded so arousing to San but it was enough to make him tingle all over, craving release. Wooyoung’s erection was now fully pressing into San’s underwear and it was driving him crazy.

San didn’t even realize it. His mind was still hazed with drowsiness, his limbs stiff and heavy and frankly, he wasn’t even aware that his siren gaze was something triggered by sleep in a similar way his morning wood was.

So he turned around in Wooyoung’s embrace, laying down on his back while Wooyoung’s arm lingered on his stomach and his erection was now pressing against his hip.

He opened his eyes and found Wooyoung already looking at him, but something in him moved, it was the gasp Wooyoung let out that was a little bit too needy and it still hadn’t properly clicked in San that he was using his powers.

Suddenly Wooyoung was climbing into his lap and their erections rubbed together over the material of their underwear and San never wanted a piece of clothing to be gone like now. Wooyoung's gaze lingered on San as he continued to roll his hips down onto him, little gasps escaping from his ajar mouth. San brought his hands to Wooyoung’s waist, partially to guide him but mostly just to ground himself, fingers digging into his skin when he slipped them under his shirt. 

“Sannie,” Wooyoung whispered and San hummed in pleasure of hearing his name from Wooyoung’s lips. “I don’t know what it is but  _ fuck, _ your eyes, just– keep looking at me like that.”

San froze, his chest constricting in slight panic. His heart was racing but Wooyoung was still looking at him like nothing happened, or maybe like  _ everything happened, _ his face was flushed and he looked  _ ethereal _ in the morning sun filtering through the blinds. He was dry humping San like he was made for it and if San wasn’t completely overwhelmed with pleasure he’d wonder how much of that enthusiasm was triggered by his powers and how much of it was just Wooyoung, horny and needy. “You’re so pretty,” he said and brought his hand to Wooyoung’s cheek, stroking it lightly.

Wooyoung leaned into his touch and  _ whimpered, _ making San’s dick twitch. He palmed at San’s cock and took a sharp inhale, hot and bothered, before sliding his hand under the fabric and wrapping his fingers around his girth. The skin-to-skin contact made San moan, he wanted to say something, like  _ so beautiful, so gorgeous _ but Wooyoung was already moving his hand, spreading his precome along his shaft and putting pressure in all the right spots, rapidly increasing the heat coiling in his abdomen.

“Feels so good, baby,” he muttered and Wooyoung nodded,  _ yeah, it does. _ He glanced down and saw that he was palming himself in sync with his strokes but before he could say anything Wooyoung used the same hand to nudge his chin up.

“Look at me, please,” he pleaded, so desperate that San had no other choice but to keep his siren gaze on him. “It’s so fucking hot when you look at me like this.”

San was rapidly nearing the edge, he hadn’t had it in him to keep himself from coming when Wooyoung was so blissed out on top of him. He wanted to keep praising him, he managed to get a couple of words out and Wooyoung nodded and moaned whenever he did. 

He came hard at one particular wrist movement, arching his back as his eyes rolled back into his skull, the orgasm hitting him like an avalanche of pleasure. He heard Wooyoung moan with him and his hand slowed down until he eventually stopped and let his hand rest on San’s stomach, now covered in his come. 

His mind was completely blank, fuzzy as he slowly came down from his high and slowly opened his eyes again, this time back in the human form, lacking any power. Wooyoung had his head hung down, hair falling into his eyes so San didn’t see them. He moved his hand to his thigh, figuring that he had not come yet.

“Let me…” he began, not quite sure how to phrase it so he moved his fingers to slide under Wooyoung’s underwear.

Wooyoung only shook his head, clean hand landing on San’s to stop him. “It’s okay,” he said with a smile and finally met San’s eyes. “I, well… already came.”

San’s eyes widened and his gaze fell to his crotch, to a wet spot on the outline of Wooyoung’s dick in his boxer briefs. Wooyoung chuckled softly and San felt a finger tracing the muscles on his abdomen.

“Your come…” he said, his voice somehow strained, confused. San raised an eyebrow. “It’s like… pearlescent?” He lifted a come-covered finger to inspect it closely, furrowing his brows.

San frowned, looking at the mess on his stomach. Compared to how Wooyoung’s come looked, white and sticky, his had a little bit of a lustre, opalizing in soft blue and pink. 

Wooyoung licked the tip of his finger and winced. “Tastes just like come, though.” 

San had to chuckle. He knew that his come didn’t look like the come that he had seen in porn and Seonghwa mentioned something vague about the topic as well, saying that it’s better to come inside so it doesn’t raise suspicion, but he hadn’t expected it to be so shockingly different. “I guess I was born with it? I never really questioned it.”

Wooyoung stared at him with a look he couldn’t decipher.

“What?”

“You’re full of secrets, San. I like it.”

Wooyoung left the apartment around lunch time, saying that he had promised Yeosang to get food with him. He hesitated in the doorway, looking at San as to say something more, taking a breath but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, he pressed a kiss on his cheek and gave him that one last smile that promised more in the future.

He would see Wooyoung again.

  
  


Seonghwa called him that evening and San vaguely remembered that he had talked about returning in just a couple of days.

“You sound different,” was the first thing he told San when he picked up the phone.

San bit his lip, how was he able to tell so fast? “I just had… a visit.”

“You’re sexing up the place, aren’t you,” Seonghwa whined jokingly. “I swear if you do it in my room I won’t hesitate–”

“No, ew dude,” San scoffed. “Your room literally smells like cum, I’m not risking that.”

“It really doesn’t, you’re just–”

“I literally saw a cum stain  _ on the door.” _

“Leave me alone,” Seonghwa whined and San could practically see him pouting. “Anyway, was it anyone interesting?”

San thought back to Wooyoung’s moans, his thighs under a shirt he borrowed from him, his eyes sparkling with joy. He hummed,  _ hell yeah. _

Seonghwa didn’t reply for a moment. “It wasn’t the guy from…” he said, carefully. 

“No,” San said maybe too quickly. “It was uh, this other guy,” he racked his brain for any other male name, “Yeosang, I think. That was the name.”

There was silence on the other side. San looked at the screen to check if the call was still active, and it was. “Kang Yeosang?” Seonghwa repeated the name.

“Uh, maybe?”

“Like, bleached hair, pink birthmark on his eye?”

San had frankly no clue, he used the name of Wooyoung’s roommate who he only saw on a photo of the two of them on his lockscreen. “Yeah, sure, why?”

“Nothing, uh,” Seonghwa muttered. “It’s nothing. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

San hummed, a little bit confused with the change of topic.

“I was thinking about staying on Jeju for a couple of more days. I’ve been talking to the guys here a lot and there’s some things I want to research. About our kind and… it’s whatever, I can talk to you about it when I get back. Is it okay?”

San furrowed his brows, there was something off with Seonghwa’s tone. He had never heard him talk in such a way. “Sure, definitely, just – is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I’ll return on Sunday, I think. Listen, I’ve got to go, talk to you later.” Seonghwa ended the call before San could even say goodbye.

San went to the kitchen to get himself a bottle of freshly thawed blood to calm himself down only to spit it out into the sink. It had to be spoilt. 

  
  
  


_ [J.W.Y sent you a location] _

_ [J.W.Y]: get coffee with me? _

San stared at the message for maybe two minutes, trying to process the words. It was only the day after and there was a lingering scent of Wooyoung all around the apartment, San recognized it on his bedsheets, on the t-shirt that Wooyoung had borrowed, on the couch where they had made out before Wooyoung had to leave. He left the t-shirt hanging over the headboard of his bed and avoided the reasoning – maybe it was because he didn’t want to do the washing yet, maybe he hoped that it could be Wooyoung’s sleep shirt for whenever he’d sleep over. Maybe he was being irrational.

But he figured there was nothing wrong with getting coffee with Wooyoung. He had caught up on his coursework and binging bad tv shows wasn’t as fun without Seonghwa, he was getting bored and going out sounded like a pretty good idea. 

He thought back to what Wooyoung had told him about his family, about his reluctance to stick to their wishes; it hurt him to know that Wooyoung was hurting like this. Having lived his whole life without a set of parents meant he wouldn’t be able to relate fully, still, he found himself aching in a similar way. Although it wasn’t a biological family, he still belonged to a species that had its own set of standards, however twisted in some parts still of utmost importance. In an attempt to keep their good relations with humans (who, most of the time, didn’t even know about their existence) sirens had developed unspoken rules, all of those things that Seonghwa kept repeating, and they were not to be broken – sticking to the morals was the only way to ensure respect. 

But the more he thought about Wooyoung the less he could see himself with anyone else. It felt wrong, his stomach clenched at the thought of kissing, touching, sleeping with someone that wasn’t him, yet at the same time he could hear Seonghwa,  _ you’re just leading him on. _

Was he leading Wooyoung on? If Wooyoung was developing feelings, then was San only creating an illusion, a fantasy where he and Wooyoung could be together?

Maybe he could convince Seonghwa that it was fine. That he could keep sleeping with Wooyoung in a sort of an arrangement where no feelings would develop and there would be no promise that one day, when Wooyoung would say  _ I love you _ , San would reply with  _ I love you too, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met–  _

He imagined Wooyoung’s face, twisted with hurt when San would eventually have to confess that no, he didn’t love him. He couldn’t love him. His heart wasn’t capable of it.

And Seonghwa would be disappointed too, maybe he would force San to move out and then he would have nowhere else to go – he broke a human’s heart and lost respect from both the humankind and his own kind.

A shiver ran down his spine and his skin itched, there had to be a way out. He took a deep, calming breath as he opened the door to the coffee shop where they had agreed to meet. 

What was Wooyoung even meeting him for?

He was sitting next to a huge window, slouched in a big armchair that made him look even smaller than he was. He was looking at his phone, a laptop abandoned on the table in front of him with a glass of half-melted ice. Something about the scene was so endearing to San, maybe it was the concentrated gaze, the fingers that absently rested on his lips, the way the late afternoon sun made his skin gold.

Wooyoung had probably sensed his presence, or it was just a coincidence when he turned his head and their eyes met. Wooyoung’s face lit up with a smile and he waved at him, so San ignored the pounding in his chest and approached him, sitting down on the chair opposite to him.

“Hi,” Wooyoung said, a little bit nervous. He set his phone down on the laptop and pulled the sleeves of his sweater down to hold them with his fingers, playing with the material.

“Hey,” San sat down and for a moment they just looked at each other. Wooyoung was visibly nervous, biting his bottom lip and San rummaged his brain for a way to break the ice. “I haven’t kept you waiting for too long?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I was studying earlier so it’s fine,” he said but from his voice San could tell that he wasn’t too interested in discussing it. “Let me get us drinks,” he stood up abruptly, “coffee? Americano?”

San nodded, confused. “Sure.”

With that, Wooyoung spun on his heels and walked away to the counter to order. San wondered if that was his way of trying to gain more time to mull over whatever it was he wanted to talk about. 

He returned with their drinks and a sheepish smile, San thought that he could never get tired of seeing it. Before he had the chance to speak, Wooyoung was already talking.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said and although San had been expecting it, his heart still sank at those words.

“Sure,” San nodded, taking a careful sip from his steaming hot cup.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, avoiding San’s gaze to look for the words. “I was just thinking the other day… Yeosang told me about this one guy he’s seeing and how it’s all frustrating, but I think he just doesn’t know what he wants, you know?” He swirled the little spoon in his coffee, mixing in sugar. “And he got kinda upset and told me that  _ I _ don’t know what I want. Said that,” he took a deep breath, “one of us will end up getting hurt.”

San blinked a couple of times, not sure he was following the train of thoughts. “Why?”

Wooyoung sighed, dropping the spoon and pulling at the sleeves of his sweater in frustration. “He doesn’t think we’re on the same page.”

San tilted his head in question.

Wooyoung slouched back into the chair with a concentrated look at his hands. “Well, he says that if we keep fooling around one of us will develop feelings and get hurt.”

The pounding in his chest got stronger, what Wooyoung was saying sounded awfully familiar. San didn’t like to beat around the bush, he liked to be direct. He swallowed dryly. “Do you have feelings for me?”

Wooyoung sighed, hanging his head down. “I think Yeosang doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He gets a crush once and thinks he’s suddenly the expert.”

San hoped that Wooyoung would continue but the silence hung between them and San wasn’t sure what to say. “I don’t plan on… hurting you, Wooyoung,” he managed, as genuinely as he could. “Ever.”

Wooyoung didn’t move, his gaze still focused on a spot on his sweater. “I don’t think that’s up to you to decide.” 

San took a breath to say something, but no words came out. If Wooyoung was trying to convey something, he wasn’t getting it. Carefully, he asked: “What is this about, Woo?”

That finally made Wooyoung look up. He looked away again but this time, San caught a glimpse of a smile. He was silent for a moment and San briefly wondered if he had even heard the question. “If I asked you, right now,” he slowly began, meeting San’s gaze. “If you wanted to date. What would you say?”

The entire world was now spinning around San and he had to clasp his hands together so they wouldn’t shake. He hoped that Wooyoung wouldn’t notice just how flustered the question had made him. “I think… I’m not ready. For a… relationship,” he forced out and the words were heavy on his tongue. Maybe this was what Seonghwa was warning him about, this kind of confrontation, the final question that would leave him feeling like someone had just carved a puppet out of his heart. 

But Wooyoung didn’t flinch – he blinked once, twice, then nodded. “Good. Me neither.”

San leaned across the table, he didn’t know what compelled him but he reached out with his hand so Wooyoung could hold it. Wooyoung eyed the hand, considering it, before tangling their fingers together. “Look,” he tried, gently. “You shouldn’t care so much about what other people think. Yeosang, your parents… It’s okay if you do things a little bit differently.”

Wooyoung nodded, his gaze never leaving San’s. He was listening, thinking it through. “Right. We don’t have to put labels on it.” He didn’t say it like a fact, he said it as though saying it made it a fact. “We can keep seeing each other until one of us gets tired of it.” 

Sure. That was one way to put it.

San was glad Wooyoung didn’t want to stop seeing him. He doubted he would be able to take rejection.

After they finished their drinks and Wooyoung was now in a much better mood, he dragged San into his apartment, saying that Yeosang wouldn’t return until late and they would have the place to themselves. San wasn’t one to reject such an idea. And they had established what their relationship – or lack thereof – was, so San was no longer bothered by the idea of sleeping with Wooyoung again.

Their previous conversation had been heavy but Wooyoung made sure to compensate, only talking about lighthearted things from that point on. He rambled about his favorite books, what Yeosang had done once at a party when inebriated, what he had done when inebriated – nothing too serious, he laughed the entire time and San wanted to kiss him senseless. Happiness looked so good on him.

He ordered takeout for the two of them and let Wooyoung cuddle with him on the couch while they watched a movie. First they sat next to each other but then Wooyoung leaned against him and eventually ended up between San’s legs, fully in his embrace. That way San could bury his nose into his hair, put his hands on his stomach and feel Wooyoung’s warmth on his entire body. It calmed him down in some kind of primal way; the fluttering in his stomach didn’t cease, nor did the itch on his neck.

Wooyoung kept playing with his hands, putting his hands over them, toying with his fingers absently. His skin burned on San’s.

“Sannie,” he said at one point, holding his fingers in both of his palms. “Your hands are really cold.”

“Cold? You’re just warm,” he said but it wasn’t too convincing even for himself. He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a chuckle to prove that it was nothing, but then he stopped.

His neck was itching, as were the sides of his chest; his legs tingled. He dragged his fingers over the skin of his neck and froze when he felt a hard line protruding from under his human skin. Biting on his bottom lip he almost flinched – carefully, he touched his tongue to his teeth and found them sharper than usual.

His heart was pounding, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be–

He thought back to the blood back home, it was spoilt and he wasn’t really hungry all that time anyway – had he really forgotten to drink?

His brain was muddled, he scrambled to form words, hoping that Wooyoung wouldn’t freak out because he was freaking out already. Wooyoung turned around, looking at San with a gaze that broke his heart. It was full of worry, so much of it that it hurt.

“Are you okay?” Wooyoung tried but San barely heard him over the buzzing in his ears.

“Sure, I just need to–” he started, hurrying to stand up and go to the bathroom or anywhere else away from Wooyoung, he didn’t want to hurt him, if he was shifting to his siren form then what was really holding the predator back from attacking a vulnerable human?

His legs gave out the second he stood up, the edges of his vision going black. Distantly he heard a shout, arms around him, the warmth, so much of it, Wooyoung’s heartbeat was like drums in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins so tempting–

San scrambled to scoot away from Wooyoung but his back hit the couch and he couldn’t move further. His throat was dry in a way that water could not quench, he wasn’t thinking straight, he could barely hear what Wooyoun was saying – his lips were moving but San couldn’t process the sound – but had known, deep down for it was a part of him, he would inevitably hurt Wooyoung if he stayed by his side for any longer. He cursed at himself, he had  _ always known _ and tears started rolling down his cheeks. He should have left, told Wooyoung that no, they shouldn’t see each other because there was no way in hell that both of them would get away unwounded.

“San, tell me what’s happening, please,” Wooyoung was pleading, kneeling in front of San with trembling hands on his knees. He had to look terrible now, were his gills visible? “I won’t hurt you, tell me what’s wrong, please–”

“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry, so sorry,” San managed without opening his mouth too much, but Wooyoung definitely had to notice his teeth. His gaze now shifted from worried to confused, it flitted between San’s neck and his face and his brows were furrowed.

“Fuck, fuck, what do I do,” Wooyoung was rambling and San realized that he wasn’t talking to him anymore, he wasn’t even asking  _ him, _ “do I call the ambulance? Or…”

“No, don’t,” he whimpered, his skin was on fire and all of his muscles were pulled tight to maintain his human form. He was still far from shifting his entire body but not far from being visibly not-human.

Wooyoung watched him closely as he tried to calm down a little bit, taking deep breaths and clenching the material of Wooyoung’s sweater. He didn’t even register he was holding it; he had grabbed it when he tried to keep distance between them.

“Have you ever heard,” he inhaled, meeting Wooyoung’s gaze, “of merfolk?”

Wooyoung blinked a couple of times, not sure if he’d heard correctly. “You mean like…?”

Where was he going with this? How would it benefit his situation if he told him the truth? He met Wooyoung’s gaze and then, fighting the battle with himself: “I’m a siren, Wooyoung.”

He gave in to the pressure on his neck and let the scales appear, to prove the point if it wasn’t already apparent that he wasn’t a human. It didn’t feel good, it hurt like someone sliced his skin with a dull pocket knife and it made his vision blurry too, he quickly realized that he wouldn’t be able to shift back even if Wooyoung gave him the space. It was like his body was rejecting it, like his human form had a mind of its own. He felt a warm trickle running down from his neck down and knew he was bleeding. “S-siren?” Wooyoung said the word carefully, enunciating slowly. “I thought– I heard about them a couple of times but I never thought that– I thought they only lived on, like… Jeju or something.”

San looked at Wooyoung as all the pieces clicked together in his head, his eyes widening. San was ready for rejection, Wooyoung freaking out and calling him a monster, kicking him out… but Wooyoung still sat there, on his knees in front of San, waiting for him to give him instructions on how to help. 

“For fuck’s sake, San, you’re bleeding, just tell me what to do,” Wooyoung whined, begged him, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. “Tell me what I can do.”

San shook his head. “You can’t do anything, I need to go back home and–”

“That’s bullshit,” Wooyoung yelled and this time the tears did spill. “Tell me what to do and– fuck, just let me help San.”

San shook his head again, he needed to have his blood fix even if it was spoilt, at this point even a single drop of blood would save him. “You can’t. I feed on…” he couldn’t even get the words out.

“On what?”

“No,” he tried to stand up but his arms were weak too so he just fell back on his ass.

Wooyoung continued to stare at him. “It’s human blood,” he whispered, perhaps too scared that it was true, that San was the blood-thirsty predator that could kill him on the spot. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. “You feed on blood,” Wooyoung repeated, this time more confident.

He grabbed his wrist the second he realized he was standing up but Wooyoung was stronger than him in such condition and easily shook him off, rushing to the kitchen. 

He returned with a knife.

“No, Wooyoung, you’re not–”

“You feed on blood, right? Human blood?” Wooyoung sat down again, kitchen knife in hand. He was determined now. “Do you know anything about first aid?”

San shook his head, “don’t be stupid Wooyoung, don’t–”

“Well, I’ll have to figure it out then,” he interrupted him and San reached out for his hand, trying to stop him, to take the knife away but Wooyoung was doped up on adrenaline and moved faster than San could even process.

The next thing he knew was the smell of blood,  _ fresh blood, _ the scent of it, intoxicating and penetrating the air straight into his senses, overwhelming them, completely taking over him. It went into his own bloodstream, into his muscles, captivating every single cell in his body and he was moving, didn’t know where but suddenly there was  _ taste, _ the blood was warm in his mouth, it coated his tongue entirely and spilled into his throat, it was sweet and San had never tasted anything so delicious. The warmth spread all throughout him, pure electricity buzzing in his veins as he licked the damaged skin for more, even sucking it so it would pulse out quicker, he would never get enough– 

He woke up from the trance and froze immediately. That was Wooyoung's arm in his hands, Wooyoung’s blood he had gulped down,  _ Wooyoung’s blood. _

He looked up and their gazes met. Wooyoung’s brows were furrowed,  _ in pain, _ his eyelids fluttering as to not lose consciousness and San’s heart broke. 

_ What have I done. _

“I’m so sorry,” he pulled away and looked at the gash. It was all bloody, with nasty bite marks around and looked like it had hurt a lot. Wooyoung grabbed something, a piece of fabric to cover the bleeding and San helped him, suddenly the one fully conscious. Wooyoung’s fingers were trembling so he attached the fabric – a shirt upon closer look – to the wound, pressing it down and then, after a second of thinking, raising it above Wooyoung’s head to slow bleeding. 

Wooyoung collapsed down onto him, almost into the same position that they sat in watching the movie, now with his face half buried in San’s chest and his arm in an awkward position over San’s shoulder. 

“Do you feel better now?” Wooyoung whispered and San just let his head hang back, against the couch in relief. Wooyoung was conscious.

“Wooyoung,” he said to scold him, to say he shouldn’t have done it, to tell him to never hurt himself like that again. On the other hand, he sensed that no words were necessary.

“I like it when you say my name,” he said and San heard the smile. He felt Wooyoung’s heart pounding against him and concentrated on it, willing it to calm down and rubbing circles into the small of his back.

The cut turned out to be not as deep as San had feared and the bleeding slowly ceased so San was able to get Wooyoung a gauze to treat the wound. He made him rest and ordered him food again, this time a lot of sweets to get his blood pressure back up. 

They didn’t talk about it after that. San stayed in his human form and the lacerations created by his gills tearing through his skin healed instantly, just a couple of seconds after he fully shifted back. His head was a jumbled mess of thoughts, he was still shaken up from the whole experience and didn’t feel like thinking about it at all.

Eventually San carried Wooyoung to his bedroom and laid him there despite his protests that he was able to stand up on his own. They fell asleep facing each other after exchanging one hesitant kiss, looking at each other like they both knew just how much trouble they were in.

  
  


San left before Wooyoung woke up.

He wasn’t even properly asleep most of the time. He knew he had slept at one point but all he could see was Wooyoung’s face in front of him, relaxed and peaceful, while the rest of his body ached with something he couldn’t describe. It began in his stomach, laid on his lungs, crushed his heart, weighed down his limbs and made his senses numb, leaving nothing but the overwhelming urge to kiss the boy in front of him. It made him terrified and content at the same time, the two emotions fighting each other like his human form fought the siren inside – although at this point, he wasn’t sure which part of him was the right one.

So he snuck out before the sun had risen up completely, getting home when it was barely above the horizon.

He laid back down in his own bed. The scent of Wooyoung was still there, especially when he buried his tear-soaked face in the other pillow or when he took the t-shirt that Wooyoung had worn and hugged it to his body.

_ You’ve hurt him, _ it repeated in his head like an alarm but it was too late already. It was hurt in the most literal sense of the word, it wasn’t even about the feelings. Wooyoung had bled to save him without anything in return.

He took out his phone and spent about thirty minutes typing and deleting, typing and deleting until he couldn’t write anymore and sent whatever he had typed out last.

_ [San]: I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore _

He didn’t get a response. Not that he was expecting it, no answer was an answer too.

San kept his eyes closed until he fell asleep again, images of Wooyoung bleeding out for him repeating over and over again like a broken record until he was eventually woken up by a light knock on his door. 

“Come in,” his voice broke but he didn’t even make an effort to sit up on his bed.

It was Seonghwa, he had to return from Jeju. He entered, a sliver of yellow light filtering through the crack in the door telling San that he had slept through the day. “Dude, did something die in here,” he said, looking around before he located San, curled up on the bed. His tone immediately changed, now concerned. “San? Did something happen?”

San opened his eyes, looking into the space in front of him. Where would he even begin?

Seonghwa sat down on the bed next to him and reached out to brush the hair off his forehead, putting his palm there to check his temperature. “Hey,” he said gently, “you know you can talk to me about anything?”

San squeezed his eyes shut, he highly doubted that.

“Even if you think you can’t… I won’t judge you. I know I was harsh with you earlier, but… all that stuff with Wooyoung,” Seonghwa continued to stroke his hair, “it’s okay if you care about him. Don’t stress over caring about him, yeah?”

It was meant as comfort but to San, it was a punch in the stomach. It only added to the pressure already there, why was he suddenly bringing up Wooyoung? Seonghwa continued carding his fingers through his hair gently, but all San could think about was the hurt on Wooyoung’s face when he drank from him.

Eventually, Seonghwa stood up and something light landed on the pillow next to his face. “I brought you something. And if you want, I’ll be ordering food soon.”

With that, he left his room and San finally opened his eyes to see a postcard right in front of him. He picked it up, it was a photo of a beach with sharp rocks and the sea bright blue just like he had remembered it. It definitely wasn’t an ugly postcard like Seonghwa had promised and something about that warmed his heart.

The sea looked inviting, calling San to itself and San felt the waves washing over him, cradling him like a child. The ocean was unforgiving but so far it hadn’t hurt him like being on the ground had, in the sea he was on top of the food chain, he was meant to kill – why was it that on the ground, hurting someone meant getting hurt as well?

Wasn’t he supposed to feel nothing? Why was it hurting so much? Why were his insides twisting and clenching?

He thought about Jeju again, maybe he should just quit university and come back. Then, with another kick in his stomach, he remembered that he wasn’t able to shift anymore. He was stuck somewhere between being a human and a siren, halfway so neither his gills nor his lungs were able to breathe and he was suffocating, slowly but surely. His heart was pounding and his gut turned again.

All it took was a whiff of Wooyoung’s scent from his shirt and a distant memory of Wooyoung smiling at him before falling asleep, of Wooyoung kissing him like his life depended on it, of how he laughed and danced and how happy he was with San – and the pressure on his lungs was too much.

_ I’m dying, _ was his first thought and with tears streaming down his face he rushed to the bathroom. He doubled over next to the toilet, certain he was going to puke, but nothing came out. He let out a cry of pain, it echoed against the tiles and before he could even process it, Seonghwa was there, kneeling right next to him.

The scene was awfully familiar, it had happened the evening before but this was much worse, it wasn’t blood he was lacking, he had no idea what was wrong with him and that was even more terrifying. 

“San, you need to breathe,” he heard Seonghwa and tried to focus on his voice. He inhaled deeply but exhaled through tears and hiccups, his stomach hurt so much he clutched his torso in his arms, pulling his knees closer to his chest. He felt a comforting palm on his back. “Breathe for me, yeah?”

“I hurt him, Seonghwa,” he managed through the sobs, “I didn’t mean to but I did and – he was in so much pain, but I…” His words turned into a mush, he couldn’t even understand himself, the tears were effectively muffling his attempts at articulation.

“But it hurts you too,” Seonghwa finished for him and San had to take another deep breath. He nodded with his forehead against the toilet seat.

“Why,” he whimpered, the tears filling his head with dull ache.

Seonghwa was silent for a moment and San heard a faint sniffle. “Because you care about him. You like him.”

His heart raced, no, that wasn’t happening, “no, that’s not possible. I can’t–  _ we  _ can’t  _ like _ someone, not like that.”

The hand on his back kept moving in calming circles but for a couple of minutes it was completely silent. “San,” Seonghwa then said carefully, “I was wrong.”

San looked up at him and had to squint, his eyes hurt from the uncontrolled crying. Seonghwa was looking at him like he could feel the same soul-crushing pain.

He looked away, licking his lips as he searched for the right words. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He met his eyes again, this time with more certainty. “That’s why I was on Jeju, I’ve had some suspicions before but then I asked Hongjoong about it. At first he was sure that yeah, we can’t feel love, but then I kept asking and… we looked through some records, some books and – nothing. No one ever said that we can’t fall in love.”

San’s face twisted in confusion, he was dizzy and his head was imploding, was he hearing right? “What? What do you mean?”

“They said sirens don’t fall in love, but no one said we  _ can’t. _ It’s rare, but apparently – it happens. And it’s possible that… the pain in your chest. The fuzzy feeling when you’re with him… no one said it can’t be love.” Seonghwa was smiling but San couldn’t understand what was so nice about the ache. “According to one record, the reason why you hear that sirens can’t feel love is because when you do, it makes you human.”

San raised his eyebrows at him, he wanted to ridicule him but then he remembered how he bled when his body attempted to shift back and how lately, the blood in his fridge tasted off.

“Your body stays this way, forever. You won’t crave blood, the only blood that you will want to drink is…”

“... from the person you’re in love with,” San finished.

“And that’s why they are adamant about not falling in love, no one likes the idea of becoming human. Until it happens to them too.”

San tried to imagine himself back in his siren form, in the depths of the ocean hunting some poor creature for a meal, playing with other merfolk at the lodge, their constant nagging for San to join them in their activities – he could barely remember their names now. Then his mind flashed back to Minho, the boy at the club in an open relationship who had definitely now forgotten him too, that wasn’t San’s cup of tea either. With Wooyoung he felt safe, comfortable and he wanted to be there for him too, he needed Wooyoung to be happy like he deserved. “Because when you do become human, you can’t imagine not being with the person you love,” he muttered. “Not growing old together. Not being loyal to them.” 

“I see you already understand,” Seonghwa nodded.

Wait. Something was off. San furrowed his brows. “What made you look into this?”

Seonghwa looked away with a chuckle. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to San, playing with the lint on his sweatpants as he continued to smile. “Well… do you remember when you said that the blood in our fridge tastes funny? I noticed it a couple of days before, but you still drank it so I realized it had to be something with me. I kept drinking it but then I noticed that I couldn’t really shift back, it hurt everywhere whenever I tried. So I wanted to ask Hongjoong about it… it wasn’t until you called when it clicked,” he looked up at him and their gazes met. “You weren’t really with Yeosang that night, were you?”

San shook his head hesitantly.

“But you said you were. And it just… clicked. Why I wanted to keep seeing Yeosang after I hooked up with him once. I kept telling you that you shouldn’t sleep with people twice, and I was so angry with you because I wished I could’ve gone back and never meet Yeosang in the first place. So when you called and I felt that pain again, I knew that it was Yeosang. That I fell in love with him.”

He felt a pang of guilt for lying to Seonghwa, what was the likelihood that Wooyoung’s roommate was the person that Seonghwa had been seeing? “So you’re becoming a human?”

Seonghwa nodded softly. “I haven’t been able to shift for a week now. I think maybe I was too careless, or maybe it’s our nature, but I haven’t even realized I was falling for him and I was falling fast. It’s like love at first sight. But I don’t care, just knowing that I love him… it makes me so happy.”

San found himself relating to Seonghwa, he had had no clue that  _ that _ was what falling in love was like. “I’m sorry for lying about Yeosang, I didn’t want you to get upset that I was sleeping with Wooyoung.” Saying his name out loud felt odd, he could see his eyes, his smile and he wanted to laugh too.

“I know, San. It’s alright. I’ve talked to Yeosang and he helped me to clear up the confusion. He also told me about how head-over-heels his roommate was for this one guy.”

San chuckled, hiding his face between his knees, it was getting hot. The fact that Wooyoung had been talking about him too… it almost made him forget the conversation they had had the day before.

Because now he knew that he was in love with him. He was in love with Wooyoung. He was in love with Wooyoung.

He was in love with Wooyoung.

  
  
  


San had moved to Seoul with somewhat of an underlying doubt that it could work out the way he’d wanted. He wasn’t human, at least hadn’t been back then, and there definitely had to be another reason why sirens didn’t study at universities or worked in offices apart from the mere fact that they didn’t have to. But even back then, when he had joined the lodge, he hadn’t felt like that was the place he was supposed to be at and maybe it was the amount of books he had read then or just his nature that compelled him to get out and discover the human world, even if it was at the cost of eventual failure. So in a way, he had been long prepared for it.

He hadn’t expected that he would be moving out of the Seoul apartment not even a couple of months after settling in.

The thing was, Wooyoung had already told him that he wasn’t prepared for a relationship – right after San said the same. And San wasn’t naïve. Falling in love within weeks of meeting was not common so confessing to Wooyoung after he had sacrificed his blood and expecting him to return his feelings wasn’t something he even dared to wish for. Instead he decided to focus on how to repent. There was no point in apologizing over and over again, there were no words that could convey San’s regret over the whole situation, so leaving was only apt.

He told Seonghwa while they were still sitting on the bathroom floor and San had calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts and words. Seonghwa didn’t properly understand why, or where he would even go, he couldn’t return to Jeju and expect to be welcomed. Not only because he was now more human than the merfolk kind, but mostly because he had no excuse for hurting Wooyoung and had no way of knowing how the community would react. It was for the best to not return, but staying in the Seoul apartment would only remind him of everything that had happened. So San told him that he would think about it, his strongest candidate being a round trip around the peninsula after which he would return and evaluate if he had gotten over Wooyoung.

San missed him already.

With a sigh, he opened an empty suitcase and stared at it unblinking until his eyes burned and the image of Wooyoung had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what time it was but the sun had risen again and Seonghwa had come to his room once to force him into drinking blood, saying that even though it tasted horrible he had to drink it, unless he wanted to relive the painful episode. So it was probably around noon, but time didn’t really matter to San at that point. 

He needed to pack up and leave.

Thinking about what to take with him, he decided to avoid things that reminded him of Wooyoung – the shirt he had borrowed for sleeping, the postcard he had touched when looking at his things, all of his books, the tops San had worn on the days he saw Wooyoung. In a way, it was nice. Packing gave him something to do with his hands and he didn’t have to think as much, the guilt not as heavy when he was finally doing something about it. He just had to avoid reaching for anything that Wooyoung had touched.

It was easier said than done. The scent still hadn’t disappeared from the bedsheets.

The doorbell rang at one point and San only rolled his eyes, the last thing he needed were sounds of Seonghwa railing some poor soul into the mattress. Well, at least he hoped that the poor soul was Yeosang. That would mean a happy ending for at least one of them. 

An hour went by and while San still hadn’t packed more than half of his things – getting distracted by the books on his shelves and the ones that Wooyoung had picked up especially – there still were no moans or pleasured screams audible through the walls. It wasn’t anything to complain about but he definitely found it odd.

There was a knock on his door just as he was putting a folded pair of jeans into the suitcase and San was expecting Seonghwa to come in right away, but nothing happened. The silence only hung heavier.

Hesitantly, he turned his head to look. “Yeah?”

The door slowly opened and San froze when he saw Wooyoung standing in the entrance. He looked almost scared, taking timid steps into the room and San fought the urge to reach out to him. He was in a hoodie so San couldn’t see his arm and check if the wound was okay, but Wooyoung didn’t look angry or sick so hopefully it was healing. “Hi,” he said, shyly closing the door behind him and standing right in front of it.

San realized he was staring, gaping actually, so he turned back around with his head hanging low. But Wooyoung was so stunning, even in a random hoodie that the image had burned itself into his memory. 

“Yeosang wanted to see Seonghwa and told me to tag along,” he heard Wooyoung explain in a voice so soft that it made San want to wrap him in a blanket. He had to shake the thought away. “Seonghwa explained a lot of things about… well. You know,” he chuckled gently. “What all of it means. The… siren thing. And that you’re becoming human.”

San scoffed. Of course Seonghwa would tell him everything. He resisted the urge to look at him again. “Did he tell you why I’m becoming human?” 

“No,” Wooyoung said in a tiny voice. “He told me I should ask you. And that you’re leaving soon.”

San put another pair of pants into the suitcase to prove the point. His throat was tight, closed up with everything he wanted to say but knew he shouldn’t.

“Where are you planning to go, anyway?”

“Not sure yet,” he willed his voice to be still, to not crack mid-sentence. “Was thinking Busan. Or maybe some random village in the middle of nowhere so I could lay low for a while… I think I could like that.”

“Random village? Come on San,” Wooyoung sighed and San heard him shuffle around before he was sitting down on the floor right behind him. He could feel the heat radiating from his body and it was tempting him to lean into it, but he was determined to resist. “Why are you so set on leaving?”

San took his time folding a shirt, neatly putting it into the suitcase before answering. “Because I hurt you.”

“I hurt myself,” Wooyoung was quick to correct him and San’s mind flashed back to the gruesome scene. He winced. 

“Because of me.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was still my decision and I stand by it.”

San let out a drawn out sigh. “If it weren’t for me… none of this would’ve happened. You had to suffer because of me and there’s no way I can ever repay you,” he almost choked up, masking the weakness in his voice by clearing his throat.

“I don’t think that’s up to you to decide,” he heard Wooyoung mutter.

He ran his fingers along the seam of a black top he was about to fold, mulling over Wooyoung’s words. He dared to look over his shoulder and their eyes met instantly. Wooyoung was sitting much closer than he had thought and the silence was deafening. “What do you mean?”

“Stay,” Wooyoung breathed out, barely above a whisper. God, he was so gorgeous and San was breathless, he wanted to erase the distance between them but it only felt like the ground underneath them was opening up and splitting them apart. “If you want to repay me. Don’t leave and stay here,” and then, because it felt like it needed to be said: “with me.”

San turned back around, absently turning the article of clothing between his hands. Wooyoung didn’t understand, he  _ had to leave. _ That was the only way he would be able to live with so much guilt. “I don’t think that’s fair to you, Wooyoung. You deserve so much more than–”

“Stop telling me what’s fair and what I deserve,” he interrupted him, now much louder and more frustrated. “I want you here, so  _ stay,” _ he pleaded with him and suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and it burned through the layers of clothing, San wanted so much more and at the same time knew that nothing at all would be better.

San didn’t turn to look at him again, instead stood up to take another set of shirts from the closet. He hoped that the movement would distract him from the crushing weight on his chest, from the urge to kiss Wooyoung. “I don’t–”

Wooyoung was quicker, standing up as well and instantly blocking his access to the closet, standing right in front of it so San had no other choice but to meet his gaze. The fit between San and the wardrobe was narrow so they were barely inches apart, San could practically feel his breath on his cheek. “Why?! Why won’t you listen?” He looked so desperate, his voice strained and San almost looked away, he didn’t want to waver now, he had been so dead-set on leaving.

_ “Because.” _ But maybe if he was upfront, Wooyoung would understand and let him go. “I love you, Wooyoung.”

He didn’t get a response. He didn’t even get a reaction, Wooyoung stood still in front of him, frozen on the spot. San sighed, he had known it would be like this. Nothing would change even if he poured his heart out and that was why he wanted to leave without talking to him in the first place. His knees felt weak, he was too nervous to stand still so he turned around and went to sit on his bed.

Only that seemed to allow Wooyoung to move and he visibly relaxed, watching San from where he was standing with a perplexed look. “I don’t think I deserve to be with you after I lied to you,” he said, hands gripping the bed sheets for support, “and didn’t tell you just how much I want to kiss you every day until I die.”

The weight eased off his chest and he could finally take a breath, daring to look up at Wooyoung. His expression didn’t tell him anything so he waited patiently, maintaining their eye contact. Eventually Wooyoung pushed himself from the wardrobe and sat down on the bed next to San. “You love me?” he managed weakly and San felt his resolve breaking. 

So he kept his eyes on their hands next to each other on the bed sheets, almost touching but not quite. 

“I– I had no idea, I’ve never–”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even said it, this is exactly why I’m leaving. I’m already living with the guilt of hurting someone I love.”

Wooyoung’s hand landed on his, gripping it with urgency as if San would literally disappear any moment. He was shaking his head. “No, San, this,  _ this,” _ he held his hand and made San look,  _ look at the mess you’ve made, _ “this is exactly why you should stay and wait for me.”

San furrowed his brows and his heart was racing, he couldn’t understand just how possibly would staying in Seoul make up for the hurt he caused, why was Wooyoung looking at him like that? Why didn’t he let him go?

Wooyoung was still holding his palm and leaned forward as if in pain, pressing their connected hands to his forehead before pressing a featherlight kiss on top of San’s knuckles. It shouldn’t have sent sparks all over his body, it shouldn’t have mattered, San was supposed to leave and start anew, with no sparks or butterflies but the more he tried to suppress them the more it hurt so he met his gaze and prepared for Wooyoung to take him where he wanted. “I like you too. And that’s why I did it, I– I care so much about you and seeing you like that… I would’ve done  _ anything.” _

San took a shaky breath.

“And I will do anything to keep you here with me. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, it might take me some time but I wanna try to give you my best and… kiss you every day and wake up next to you one day and realize I’m in love with you too. I want that so much, so if you want to repay me then for god’s sake  _ stay. Stay with me.” _

Well, who was San to ever deny him of anything?

Wooyoung kept looking at him with that frustrated scowl, he wasn’t sure if he was getting the message across so he leaned forward and kissed him. He was gentle at first, just barely brushing their lips before going in with passion, and San could feel it flowing through him, the warmth, the adoration and devotion and all the feelings words couldn’t express, he could finally convey them through how he kissed Wooyoung back, how he held his waist, carefully so he wouldn’t break but with enough grip so he knew this was real. That Wooyoung wanted him just as much.

“Sannie,” Wooyoung breathed out when he pulled away, just the slightest bit so they could breathe. “Are you gonna stay?”

San felt his heart pounding, Wooyoung looked so lovely in front of him and he’d wanted to leave him? He couldn’t, there was no way he could ever leave Wooyoung, what had he been thinking? “Kiss me, Woo,” he said and Wooyoung didn’t waste a second, grabbing his face with both of his hands to pull him even closer. He sucked on his bottom lip before licking into his mouth and San had missed it so much, Wooyoung always kissed like he knew what felt good which was ideal given the fact that San hadn’t kissed anyone else before. He was glad that Wooyoung had been his first.

“Are you?” he asked again, this time barely a whisper so he wouldn’t have to pull away for too long, immediately kissing San again like he already knew the answer, of course he would stay, he was in love.

“Kiss me again,” he answered and at this point Wooyoung chuckled, smiled into the kiss, his mouth was so warm and San could barely believe that he had so much luck in his life to be kissed like that.

“So?” The question still lingered in the air and San regretted everything that made Wooyoung doubt, he wanted to take everything back and instead just repeat how much he loved him.

“I will stay if you promise to never stop kissing me like this.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Fuck, San,  _ right there,” _ Wooyoung was moaning, his whimpers echoing against the kitchen tiles and creating a cacophony of obscene sounds in combination with the wet slapping of skin against skin. 

San could only grunt, fingers digging into the soft flesh on Wooyoung’s hips with enough strength to bruise as he pounded into him. He was close already, had been since Wooyoung had started to tease him an hour ago by rubbing his ass against his crotch while wearing sweats with nothing underneath.

“Feels so good,” Wooyoung gasped, voice strained, bent over the kitchen counter. They had been dating for almost six months now and needless to say, San loved every second of it. Especially at moments like these when Wooyoung was assuring him with tears in his eyes and pleas dripping from his tongue that he was  _ his, only his _ and San had trouble not coming instantly.

It didn’t take them longer than that to reach the climax, San riding out his orgasm and watching with awe as his come trickled down Wooyoung’s thighs while Wooyoung spilled onto the counter.

“Seonghwa is going to kill you,” Wooyoung exhaled, still recovering from the orgasm that left his legs shaking under his own weight. San scoffed, first of all it was Wooyoung’s idea to fuck all over the apartment because it turned him on to try the various pieces of furniture, nearly costing Seonghwa a heart attack when he found out that they even went into his room. Second of all… 

“He won’t if we clean up,” San said, reaching for a roll of kitchen towels to begin wiping off the come off their bodies. “Plus, he’s too busy railing Yeosang these days anyway.” It had taken Seonghwa a little longer to finally confess to Yeosang just so he would be sure Yeosang would return his feelings. They had been dating for months, meeting up with shy smiles and awkward greetings when Seonghwa didn’t know if it was appropriate to kiss Yeosang on the cheek, before Seonghwa finally gathered the courage to pour his heart out. It also meant that while Wooyoung had basically moved in with San, Seonghwa was spending most of his days at Yeosang’s apartment. 

He threw the dirty tissues into the trash and made sure to place hundreds of little kisses on Wooyoung’s cheeks, wrapping him in a tight hug and pushing him to the living room so they could cuddle on the couch. San loved cuddling and falling asleep next to Wooyoung, he loved being surrounded by his scent and warmth, even when Wooyoung hogged the blankets and left his clothing randomly scattered around the apartment – San wouldn’t have it any other way. Wooyoung was a part of him now. 

His siren powers didn't disappear overnight; they slowly subsided until San barely had to drink any blood, his human body strong enough to work on its own; Wooyoung made him stronger, too. His siren gaze was what lingered for the longest time. He had no way of really knowing how much of it was left, the powers were triggered during heated makeout sessions and he could feel Wooyoung getting harder upon eye contact, and Wooyoung liked to make sure San knew just how turned on he was making him. But Wooyoung himself wasn’t too sure how much of that were his powers.

Wooyoung had told him he loved him two months after they’d started dating. They were laying, just like this, next to each other in the morning and when San turned his head around to face him, Wooyoung was already looking with sleepy eyes and a smile on his lips and then he muttered ‘I love you,’ easily and comfortably because San already knew. 

San had to smile when he remembered it now, hand finding Wooyoung’s to lace their fingers together. 

“I got a postcard from Jeju,” he said and Wooyoung gave him a confused look. Since Seonghwa had talked to Hongjoong about becoming human they hadn’t received any messages and San was glad – it meant that either no one knew about them or that they didn’t mind what had happened. So San nearly panicked when he saw a blue postcard in their mail. “But Hongjoong just wanted to say he was happy for us. Turns out, there are hopeless romantics even among the merfolk.”

Wooyoung chuckled. “I’m glad.”

“And he’s letting us use this apartment for free, too. Good thing sirens don’t believe in capitalism.”

Wooyoung hummed, tracing patterns into San’s chest while nuzzling his neck.

“So if you wanted… you could move in with me,” San muttered into Wooyoung’s hair. “You already have a lot of things here anyway.”

He met Wooyoung’s gaze. “Yeah,” Wooyoung breathed out, “I’d love that.”

San kissed him in response, the butterflies in his stomach never-ceasing. Wooyoung kissed him back with the passion that had never disappeared from his kisses, the same enthusiasm that San had fallen in love the second they had touched each other for the first time. The love that San would never exchange for anything in his life – his human life, with Wooyoung.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay this one was a ride. Writing this one was a lot of fun but also pretty stressful as I don't have too much experience with complicated worldbuilding and supernatural elements.
> 
> Did you like it? Definitely leave your thoughts in the comments, I love hearing what readers think and it fuels my writing. Kudos are also appreciated!
> 
> As I said, there's a lot of lore I haven't had the opportunity to include, so if you are curious you can ask me in the comments or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wooyngthighs) !
> 
> [Wattpad account](https://www.wattpad.com/user/wooyoungthighs) (this is my only Wattpad account; if you find my work elsewhere, please report it)


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